


History Repeats Itself

by gimnald



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (there's pICTURES NOW HECK), AU, Alternate Reality, Canon Related, Canon Rewrite, Do-Over, Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Hogwarts First Year, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Hogwarts Second Year, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Hogwarts Third Year, I don’t know what i’m doing half the time, Illustrations, M/M, Oblivious Draco, POV Draco Malfoy, Pining Harry, Ravenclaw Draco, Time Travel, draco doesn’t know what’s he doing half the time, enjoy C- writing skills, one-sided friendship, seriously this writing is below par, there's a shameful male OC that I made, v salty draco in early chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 54,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4304088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimnald/pseuds/gimnald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco wakes up in his bed after the war to see he’s eleven years old with the knowledge of what the future holds. Wanting to set things right, he does things a little differently. And by different, it means becoming friends with the Golden Trio, and falling in love with the one and only Harry Potter apparently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Boy Who Miraculously Lived

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this entire story is beta'd by OmbreOwl so give her all the love!!

** **

**PART ONE**

Draco sat up on the bed with a gasp. He tried to look around the room, but his head was throbbing too badly.  _What the hell happened_? he wondered. A sharp pain went through his head, and he had to lie back down, closing his eyes once more. His senses were finally connecting to his brain. He was in a bed, he had the worst headache he had ever had in his life, and his arm was burning where the Dark Mark was. 

Wait... no, it wasn’t. Eyes still shut, Draco moved his hand towards his arm. What should have been the transfer of skin to the bumps that made up a menacing skull, was instead just unblemished smoothness. 

Squeezing his eyes shut more tightly, Draco frantically felt up and down his arm. His breaths became shallow, and the bed sheets were becoming tangled from all his kicking around. After taking a deep breath, he slowly sat back up, gripping a hand over his forearm. Cracking open an eye, Draco saw himself clutching onto nothing but pale skin.

The Dark Mark was gone.

Dumbly, Draco stared at his arm until a sharp  _crack_  sounded from the foot of the bed, and the over-powering smell of food began seeping through his confusion. 

"Master Draco? Dobby has brought breakfast for Young Master; Dobby has prepared poached salmon and mint salad, sir. Master Draco is needing to be waking up now." A squeaky voice was at the side of the bed. A small, skinny being with saucer-wide eyes and bat-like ears was holding a breakfast tray of tea and said food.

" _Dobby_? Is that you?" Draco stared at the house-elf in shock, not believing his eyes.

“Dobby is Dobby, Master Draco. Dobby has brought Master Draco’s breakfast up, sir,“ the house-elf informed. He looked exactly as Draco remembered him: Ratty uniform, all skin and bones, and giant, green eyes. Yet it didn’t make any sense.

“I... I thought you were freed.”  _Plus you disappeared when I was in the second year._ Horror filled the house-elf's face at Draco's words.

"N-No! Never will Dobby leave Master’s house, sir! Honest!" The servant dropped the tray, making it cling loudly onto the floor as he pulled harshly on his ears. The house-elf squeaked in surprise at the sound and yanked harder at his ears.

“But—“

"Dobby has been part of Master's family for years and will always be!" Dobby got on his hands and knees and started slamming his head onto the floor, barely missing the broken glass. "Bad Dobby! Bad for making Master Draco think Dobby was free!"

“Dobby, please, calm down!" Draco jumped out of bed, pulling on the pillowcase uniform to stop any more harm. Glassy eyes looked up at him.

"Master Draco has never been so good to Dobby before," Dobby simpered.

"I'm having a good morning," Draco snapped, confusion souring his temper. "Where's my wand? I’ll clean this up,” he said as he nodded over to the broken china and the spilled tea.

"A wand will be given to Master Draco today! Today, Master's family is to be going to Diagon Alley to buy supplies for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Let Dobby clean it, sir." A loud snap of Dobby's bony fingers and the tray was as good as new, the mess completely gone.

"What? Today?” Nothing was making sense.  _Why is Dobby here? What does he mean I'll be getting my wand today? I already have my wand... Don't I?_

"Master is wanting his son to be ready by noon. Best hurry, Master Draco." Another crack and Dobby was gone, leaving the blond to figure out the conversation alone. Didn't he have his wand? Why was he supposed to be getting ready? Why was Dobby here? He had too many questions.

"Getting my supplies?" Draco's eyes widened as he suddenly realised that something wasn’t right with his voice. A hand flew up to his throat. His voice was higher.

Springing up from the floor, he rushed to the mirror in the corner of the room that he finally recognised as his childhood bedroom. A pale, pointy face stared back at him, looking shocked. Large, grey eyes went wide. He was wearing black silk pyjamas which had sleeves that were too long, making it so that only his fingertips stuck out. His blond, baby-fine hair was in the messiest bedhead. Draco swallowed thickly, biting back the scream in his throat. Everything was numb. He couldn’t feel anything.

   

He was eleven. An eleven-year-old boy.  _Again_. As if the last six years had never happened. Like it was all some... dream. Was all of that a dream? His entire life, nothing more than figments of the imagination of an eleven-year-old boy? Going to Hogwarts and being forced to become a...

No. It couldn't have been. It was all too vivid. It was too  _real_. It actually happened, and he was certain of it. He brought his attention back to the mirror.

Draco was a good foot shorter and hadn't yet grown into his features as well as he later would, but what really got him was his eyes. It was his eyes. His  _seventeen-year-old eyes_. They held so much age, belonging to a person who had already seen too much. They were no longer shining silver but rather were weathered down into a bleak grey. His eyes travelled around the room.

It was his room all right, filled with his dusty story books and his racing broom that was leaning against the bookshelf. Moving pictures of Quidditch players took over a select spot on the wall.

_What is happening?_  The room was spinning, everything in his entire body felt nauseated. Draco wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to stop shaking.

Was this another chance? To do what? To do the same thing? Or to change something, perhaps. He thought back to... ten minutes ago.

_ "HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!" Voldemort yelled. _

_ "No!" the Weasley girl shouted, rushing forward in desperation, only to be held back. _

_ Voldemort, powerful and now unchallenged, began speaking of a new Wizarding World. A better one, a perfect one. Where only the pure could thrive without those infected with muggle blood to tarnish their beliefs. He asked for those who wanted to join him to come over to the crowd of Death Eaters, spewing promises of survival and riches. _

_ "Draco!" Draco's father was yelling at him to come over to their side. Draco did not move. _

_ “Draco, come, please,“ his mother tried as well. He glanced at the Dark Lord, then at the students and professors of Hogwarts who were watching him with baited breath. _

_ “No.” He didn’t leave from his spot. Voldemort's eyes narrowed at him, anger filling them and making the red irises seemingly darken. _

_ “It seems like young Malfoy thinks he is too  _ good _ for us.” The Dark Lord’s voice was cold, unforgiving. “Young Malfoy thinks... he is better than us.” A ripple of laughter went through the Death Eaters standing behind him. “Well... I think this is a perfect opportunity to show everyone here what happens after you make such a statement.” _

_ Draco knew what was going to happen. _

_ "AVADA KEDAVRA!" Draco hit the ground. _

"But what happened after that?" Draco asked himself.  _I woke up in my bed, eleven years old again._

How was he even here? Why was he even here? What was he supposed to do? Not die? His survival was not necessary for victory.

But Harry Potter's survival was.

Did Potter actually die? Draco didn’t think so. Even he accepted that Potter's the strongest wizard in the world, especially considering he could cause Voldemort such fear. He couldn’t have just died. Was that what he was supposed to do then? Help Potter not die this time?

It was. Merlin, it _was_.

"Master Draco? It is time for you to leave." Dobby apparated in to see him still not ready. "Master Draco is still not dressed?!"

“Tell them...“ Draco ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself with deep breaths. ”Tell my parents that I shall be down in a minute. It took me awhile to wake up.” To wake up, indeed.

As he was getting dressed, Draco made himself a vow:  _This time will be different._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT (2017): now, with fantastic art by [Duo Swords (Skitcat)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Skitcat/pseuds/Duo%20Swords) (they also have a [tumblr](http://duoswords.tumblr.com).)


	2. Not You Again

Draco had never felt so uncomfortable. The reality of him being eleven again had passed (sort of), but seeing Diagon Alley, bustling with movement and _life_ , was almost too much. He just kept thinking of how it is, or how it's going to be, rather.

"Draco?" A hand was on his shoulder, pulling him back into the present (because it wasn't the past, not anymore). "Are you all right?" Concern was in his mother's eyes, but one look at his father and he knew he had to meet the expectations, even if it was all for nothing in the end.

"I'm fine, Mother. What's on the list?" Before she could say anything, Lucius intervened.

"I will be getting your school books and your mother will be waiting for you at Ollivander's. Just go to the robe shop and get your uniform fitted. When you are finished, go to your mother and get your wand. We will meet back to get your owl," he instructed. “Can you handle that?”

"Yes, Father." This was exactly as he had dreamed. As he had lived.

"And when you get the chance, fix that mess of hair." At the comment, Draco remembered that he hadn't styled his hair that morning, having gotten out of the habit around the third year. It was messy and fluffing up, causing his bangs to cover one of his eyes. He remembered how he used to put so much effort into his hair to live up to his father’s standards, to get the approval he never received. He considered doing as his father said to avoid an argument, but he liked it loose instead of poisoned by all the product he had used to put in it.

 _Might as well start making things different now_ , he thought.

"It looks fine, dear. Go along now, Draco."

"Yes, Mother." He quickly ran off to Madam Malkin's.

The entering of the shop went just how he thought it would: Madam Malkin asking if he was Hogwarts before sending him to the back of the shop to be fitted, except this time he was more... kind towards her. That was a strange way of putting it, Draco Malfoy: Kind.

Halfway through his pinning, Draco heard another person take the spot next to him.

Wait, another person? Merlin, help him. He knew exactly who the person was. It was just like the first time, but he desperately didn't want it to be.

"Did I pin you, sweetie?" The witch fitting him asked, having noticed how he had gone rigid.

“Er, no, I just lost my train of thought for a minute there, sorry.” This is the first time, and maybe the only time, first year Draco apologised that wasn't forced. He felt someone staring at him. _Please no,_ he thought, but lo and behold, it was him. His supposed-to-be-arch-nemesis for the next six years. "Hello." His voice was soft and weak. _Dammit, Draco, get a hold of yourself._ "Hogwarts too?" He glanced down at Potter's robes.

"Yes." Potter gave him a small nod.

 _What do I say? What_ did _I say?_

“You excited?” _Please, ask the fitter to stab you with her pins now so you'll shut up._

__

"Quite, actually," Potter laughed weakly. "You?"

“I think I know what to... expect." Draco felt the store shrinking as the reality of that statement sunk in. He wasn't supposed to be here. His whole body shook, waiting for the Dark Lord to just walk in and wake him up from this nightmare or dream or whatever this was.

Madam Malkin's should be boarded up, not fitting him for robes. He should be seventeen, not eleven. He should be a worthless Death Eater, not a firstie preparing for Hogwarts. He should be living in fear in his own home, not waking up to— he needed to get out of here.

Draco lost his footing trying to walk off the stool. Small arms caught his even smaller body.

"Are you okay?" Potter’s voice was above his head. He was suspended between his stool and Potter’s, his fingernails digging into the black robe draped over the other boy. Looking up, Draco had his 'first' eye contact with Harry Potter. His green eyes were behind a beaten up pair of glasses; they were filled with visible concern.

_Huh, that’s a new one._

"Just..." Draco looked into those eyes, watching them grow older in his head, remembering all the times they were filled with hatred and anger. "Just all over the place." Using his fringe to cover his red face, he slowly leaned back to his stool, ignoring the hands held out to him by the fitter. _You are better than this, Malfoy._ “Thank you,” he said when he noticed Potter was still looking at him. "For catching me." _Why did you thank him? You don’t thank Harry Potter._

"It's fine." A moment of silence went between them. "I'm Harry, by the way."

_Do not respond. Do not respond._

"I'm Draco." _You idiot._

"Okay, love, I think you're done," Draco's witch told him and he almost shouted in happiness. Gratefully, he let his robes be slipped off. Quickly thanking the witch and putting it on his family tab, he turned away to leave.

"I think you're done as well, dear." Does the universe hate him? He began to walk faster towards the front of the store. Slipping in between other students and witches, he was almost out of the door when he heard a fatal call.

“Draco, w-wait up!” Draco almost winced at the sound of that. It was always Malfoy, never Draco.

 _I wanted things to be different, here it is. I have to be... nice or I'll ruin everything._ But he really didn't want to. Forcefully, his feet stopped when he stepped outside of the store.

"Where are you going now?" Potter asked him, slightly out of breath from chasing after him.

"To meet my mother at Ollivander's." _You weren't there, so go away now._ "I'm going to get my wand."

"I'll go with-"

"'Arry!" Draco had never been so happy to see the half-giant. "Where do you think yer goin'?" As an eleven-year-old boy, Hagrid was now larger than ever, more intimidating as he towered over the two boys. He was holding two large ice creams, one obviously for Potter, the other for himself.

"Draco, this is Hagrid, the gamekeeper at Hogwarts," Potter stated proudly.

 _Believe me, I know that_.

"Hagrid, this is Draco. I met him in the robe shop."

 _It's Malfoy to you_ , Draco snapped in his head, but he quickly put on an act, trying to seem like a normal child.

"I didn't know Hogwarts had a gamekeeper!" Draco said in mock-awe, though the two didn’t notice. “That’s amazing!”

"They sure do!" Hagrid laughed merrily. "Someone has to tend to the animals and such!" Hagrid patted his back, making Draco's knees buckle under the force. The blond smiled weakly, making his cheeks hurt. First year Draco smirked, not smiled.

“Uh, it was nice meeting you," not really, it was as awful as the first time, "but I have to get to my mother.“ Potter’s own smile disappeared.

"Oh, okay."

"I'm sorry." _The second time I've apologised._

“I’ll see you at Hogwarts, right?” Potter asked, hope so evident in his voice that Draco wanted to cringe.

"Yeah, of course. Bye." He heard Potter’s soft 'bye' before he melted into the crowd.

When he was certain that they couldn't see him, he ran the whole way to Ollivander's.


	3. Magic, We All Do It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I didn’t know people wanted to see more.

Draco would much rather wake up in his bed and be seventeen again, Dark Mark and all, than be walking to the train station for his "first year" at Hogwarts. His father was pushing his trolley to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, wearing high-end Muggle clothes along with Narcissa, distaste stuck on his face at the feeling of cotton than silky robes. Draco was perfectly content, wearing a large jumper and denims (sneaked in by Dobby).

"You know what I expect from you?" His father's voice was piercing.

"Of course, Father," Draco mumbled. “I remember each and every expectation.”

"Love, are you alright?" His mother asked. "You've been awfully quiet these past few days. Spending all your time in your room, daydreaming at meals... Is everything alright-”

“He’s fine, Narcissa,” Lucius said. "Just nerves, though he should not have any.” He directed the last part towards Draco. “Can you at least consider dressing _like you're suppose to_ while you are at school? I don’t wish for others to think I did not raise my son properly.“

Along with wearing jumpers and denims with casual ease, Draco had not been putting product in his hair and had been wearing his least fancy clothing all around the mansion for the last month. He had tried wearing his 'fancy' clothes and styling hair once more, but it had made him look like a mini-Lucius. That right there should give anyone shivers.

“Of course, Father.“ When they reached the barrier, Draco waved off the explanation from his mother and ran through the barrier, noticing neither his mother’s shocked expression nor his father’s impressed face.

The platform was filled with few people. Most arrived ten minutes before the train departed, not twenty minutes before. Draco's parents had always arrived early to make sure Draco got the compartment of his choosing. It also had the added benefit of giving them privacy, so they weren't crowded by others rushing last minute.

As they made their way towards the back of the Hogwarts Express, Lucius easily stuck Draco's trunk into the corner of the compartment rack, then was off before Draco was even sitting down. He stopped before he got too far, though, turning to give one final warning.

“Expectations, Draco.” He pointed a finger at him with a firm glare. "Do not forget them.”

"I won't."

"Goodbye, love." Narcissa planted a kiss on his forehead before giving him a gentle smile. "Have a good first year. Send letters."

"I'll try." Draco watched as his mother stepped off the train, joining her husband. Slightly waving, he stared as they walked away and went off the platform.

Leaning back in his seat, the blond glanced at the ceiling. What was he supposed to do this year? He knows so much. Too much. What should he do? Tell someone? No. Not yet. He had to get closer to Potter first, even if that meant befriending Granger and Weasley.

"No..." Draco groaned. He couldn't really do that while being in Slytherin. Maybe if he—

"No what, Draco?" He immediately snatched his wand from his back pocket and pointed it at the noise.

_Fuck, I forgot about them._ “Crabbe, Goyle." He lowered his wand but didn't put it away just yet.

“Why are you back here?" Crabbe asked. “We were looking for you.”

“Yeah, we looked everywhere. What are you doing?” Goyle inquired.

_I really don’t want to deal with you right now... or ever._ "I needed space to clear my head." _What would I have said back then?_ “All those... mudbloods that'll be here soon. I need time alone." He put as much venom into his voice as he could, but his voice still shook at the word.

"Okay." Like the good, empty-headed goons Draco remembered, they didn't question him. "We'll be in another compartment. If you need us, just come and get us.” 

“Just go.” The two left and Draco tightened his grip on his wand, too scared to let it go. It made him feel better that he had his wand again. A sense of familiarity that would never be changed. Something to ground him in this bizarre game of chance.

While the platform began to fill, Draco practised little spells nonverbally. Getting lost in the magic, he didn't hear the door open again.

"Draco!" Draco immediately pointed his wand towards the sound of the noise again. Potter's shocked eyes focused on the tip of his wand.

_Of course, he found me._ "Merlin, don't scare me! I could've hexed you!" Draco made his voice sound shocked and horrified at the thought of hexing Potter, but he really wanted to so badly.

"Really?" Two more people were coming through the door now.

"You sure about that?" The Weasley twins were behind Potter, giving him curious looks. Draco found that he wasn’t as completely over time travelling as he had thought, knowing what the fate for one of them would be. He closed his mouth and stared at them, not even saying anything as they stuck Potter’s trunk in the compartment.

"You're just a first year," one told him.

"But with that magic he was doing, Fred..." A pang of guilt went through Draco's stomach at that name. 

_Do not tell anyone about anything, Draco,_ he warned himself.

”Hey, doesn’t he look like that Malfoy prick Dad’s always on about?" George asked. Embarrassment flamed Draco's cheeks and he looked down, avoiding their gaze.

"Hmm, true. Hey, I think it's the small one!"

“Yeah... Draco Malfoy! That’s it!” George exclaimed.

_I’m getting picked on by two Weasleys and we haven’t even left the train station yet._ Draco felt his cheeks warm get warmer.

"But you've gone and made him upset. I think we need to apologise, George.”

"Oh, all right," the other said. His tone made it sound as if it was a chore he didn't want to do.

"We're sorry that you have a horrible father," they both said in unison, sarcasm heavy in each of their voices.

"Hey, you can't just talk about his family like—" Potter began, but Draco cut him off, as he didn't need famous Harry Potter defending him.

"It's fine, Harry. I completely agree with them." He felt his eye twitch at the sound of Potter's name coming from his mouth but did his best to ignore it. Forcing a smile, he watched as Potter sat across from him.

"Wait, did he say 'Harry'?" One of the twins asked.

"As in Potter?" The two forgot about Draco as they paid full attention to the other boy.

"Oh, him, I mean yes, that's me." The Weasleys gawked at Potter, causing the boy to turn red. Draco bit back a smile. He was 'nice' now, but that didn't mean that he couldn't enjoy seeing his supposed-to-be-arch-nemesis suffer.

"Fred? George? Are you there?" Molly Weasley called.

"Coming, Mum." With one last look at Potter, they hopped off the train.

"Hey," Potter said, smiling at him. Draco felt caught.

"H-hey." On the inside, he was slapping a hand to his face. _I stuttered. Again. Seriously?_ "How have you been?"

"Great now. I didn't know how to get here, though."

"Oh?" _This is new_.

"Yeah, I had to ask a family to help me get through." Draco had a feeling he knew exactly who it was.

"The twins who came in with you?"

"Yeah." They watched the Weasleys try to situate themselves as they gave farewell hugs before boarding the train. "They called you a Malfoy," Potter said after a while.

"I am a Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. My father is well known in the Wizarding World, but he's really just a giant prat who doesn’t care about anyone or anything but his name and fortune. He has no respect for himself, and if it came to it, he'd beg for his life like a coward instead of fighting for it." Potter’s eyes widen at Draco’s words, obviously not expecting them.  _That felt really good._

“Oh."

“Don't worry, I'm nothing like him." _I'm exactly like him._

"I know that already. I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

“I already know that too.”

"Oh, right..."

"Not because of them. You're kind of famous, you know? There's not many 'Harry's in the Wizarding world." _Oh, but how that will change once everyone starts naming their children after the Golden Boy._

"But you didn't freak out."

_He's right... Lie._ “Why should I? You’re here learning magic like everyone else on this train. I wouldn’t think that I needed to give you special treatment.“ Potter looked at him for a moment, seemingly accessing him. Draco looked away and watched the Weasleys argue on the platform, cursing himself for letting old grudges slip out.

"Thanks." His stare met kind, green eyes with his confused grey.

"For what?"

"Treating me like I'm normal..." Potter was red in the face again, murmuring under his breath.

_What did I do now? "_ It's not a problem." Draco tightened his hold on his wand and Potter noticed.

"Can you do magic?"

_Only the entire Hogwarts curriculum._ "Just a little bit."

"Can I see?" Draco stared at the thin face, the messy, black hair, and the broken, round glasses being held together by what looked like Spello-tape.

_Those glasses are annoying me._ He pointed his wand—once again—at Potter’s forehead which made the other boy's breath hitch and his eyes go wide. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you." Without warning, Draco muttered, " _Reparo_ ," and the tape fell off. Potter's glasses were shiny and looked as good as new. "Isn't that better?" Potter took off his glasses, looking at them in awe. While that was happening, they didn't notice that the train had begun moving. The compartment door opened for the third time and Ron Weasley peeked in.

"Is anyone sitting there?" He asked, pointing at the seat next to Draco. "Everywhere else is full."

"Er," Potter began nervously, but Draco cut him short.

"Not at all." _I might be hanging around them more, but Potter and Weasley need to stay friends,_ Draco told himself. Weasley sat down and heavy silence filled the compartment, Weasely's fingers getting tangled in his lap. He looked up to Potter. "Are you really Harry Potter?" He blurted out. 

_Wow, that was subtle._

"Yes. I am." 

"Oh, I thought that George and Fred were—I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley. Who are you?" Draco looked away from the rolling hills to see that they were both looking at him. 

_Don't drag me into this..._ "Draco Malfoy." Weasley's eyes widened. "Yes, yes, my father is a biased prat, I know."

"Oh, you agree with me." The question came off as a surprised statement. 

“Look, I'm not like him, alright?" _Lies_. "I'm sorry for whatever my family has done in the past." _That's the third time I've apologised._

"He's right," Potter jabbed in. "He's really nice." Draco Malfoy: Nice. Draco thought he’d never see the day.

"Good." Weasley blew his hair out of his face. "I hope we get to be friends."

_I don't._

"Is everyone in your families wizards?" Potter asked the both of them.

"Er, I think so. I think Mum's got a cousin who's an accountant, but we don't talk about him. There might be a great aunt but I don't really know." They turned to Draco.

"My whole family is. They are one of the few wizarding families who still stick to rules about blood purity and are known to be all Slytherins, myself included."

"That sucks. What if you don’t get into Slytherin?" Weasley asked.

“I think I already know I'm going to be one..."

"What's Slytherin?"

"What?" Weasley said, bewildered. “'What’s Slytherin'?”

"It's one of the houses at Hogwarts. You see, we are sorted into four houses and our housemates are who we will have classes, share dormitories, and sit with at meals." Draco's had that 'does-this-ring-a-bell' tone to it. 

"Okay..." Potter said, but he looked like he still didn't understand.

"I heard that you lived with muggles. How were they?"

_Whoa, Potter lived with muggles? That... explains a lot, actually._

"Horrible—well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. I wish I had wizard brothers."

"Try having five," Weasley grumbled.

“I’m an only child as well. Don’t worry about it. It’s not that big of a deal,” Draco said, mindlessly twirling his wand in between his fingers.

"Be careful there, mate," Weasley gasped.

"I'm careful."

“He can already do magic, I saw it! Show him.“ Potter smiled.

_Fuck you too._

“Lemme see then.” Draco blew a lock of hair out of his eyes.

_Fuck all of you_. Still, he went along and decided to show them a simple spell. " _Lumos_." His wand lit up with a bright light. “ _Nox_.” The light went out. 

“Cool!"

 

The small talk continued that mostly consisted of Draco and Weasley explaining Quidditch to Potter.

_Youngest player to join a team and he didn’t even know what it was? The nerve._

Half past twelve, the Honeydukes Express witch that passed out candy came around, asking if they'd like anything from the trolley. Potter went and bought some of everything and shared it between the three of them (Draco's eye twitching when he saw the dozens of Galleons Potter had). Draco had a piece of Liquorice Wand almost torn off when Potter suddenly spoke up.

"So _this_ is Dumbledore!" He exclaimed, looking at a Chocolate Frog card. Weasley was saying he had six of him when everything blurred.

 

_Draco wasn't in the compartment anymore. He was sixteen and on top of the Astronomy Tower, almost in tears as he pointed his wand towards the headmaster of Hogwarts. He was saying how the Dark Lord chose him to kill the headmaster, to kill Dumbledore. But he couldn’t. All he could feel was scared and regretful that he let himself get branded with the Dark Mark. The constant mantra of ‘He’ll kill me if I don’t. He’ll kill me if I don’t’ repeating in his head. He wanted to run away, he wanted to be the one to fall off of the tower, to have it all just stop..._

_"Draco," Dumbledore's voice was soft._

_"Draco—"_

 

"Draco!" Someone was shaking his shoulder. He gasped loudly and flinched away, making the two boys look at him funny. "Are you 'right?" Weasley asked. "You zoned out."

"I'm fine, Weasley," he snapped. "Sorry, sorry. I, I just lost myself." _Fifth time I've apologised,_ he noted idly.

“Chocolate Frog?" Weasley offered, holding up a package.

"No, thanks." The blond quickly stuffed his wand into the seat as the compartment door opened for the fourth time. Hermione Granger walked in.

"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost his." Her voice held a bossy tone even at this young age and it took ever fiber in Draco's body not to laugh at it.

"No," the three chorused. She groaned but then saw Draco's wand sticking out.

"You can do magic already? I want to see, then."

_It's_ magic _. We_ all _do it, why so fascinated about it?_ Draco growled in his head but lit up his wand all the same.

"Impressive," she said simply before walking away.

_That’s all she had to say about that? What was even the point?_

"Weird," Weasley mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate.

“You’re telling me...” Draco responded.


	4. The Sorting

Draco got off of the train with Potter sticking to him as if they were attached at the hip.

 _I have the right mind to push you onto the train tracks, Potter_. It would be so easy, and no one would see to claim it was anything but an accident. He just had to—

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!” Hagrid’s booming voice made Draco’s arms go back to their sides as he scowled. “All right there, Harry?” Hagrid asked through the sea of heads.

“Yeah, I'm good,” Potter said, stepping even closer to Draco.

 _Merlin, it’s just getting worse and worse,_ Draco thought as they followed Hagrid down to the Black Lake to find the boats.

 _Why do we only use these in the first year?_ He wondered idly. (It was one of the questions he always thought about during History of Magic.) 

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid said as Draco easily slipped into a boat, closely followed by Weasley, Potter, and Longbottom.

 

* * *

 

Hagrid knocked on the castle door, and Professor McGonagall swung open the door after a moment. The smell of dusty, old air filled Draco’s nose as they walked down a torch-lit corridor.

 _At least Hogwarts didn’t change_. He could take solace in that fact, at least.

They stopped in a chamber off to the side of the hall. McGonagall did the expected speech about the houses of Hogwarts (Draco having to hold off Potter’s questions of, “What’s Gryffindor?” and “Is Hufflepuff a real animal?”).

“I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting," McGonagall advised. Potter started to nervously flatten his hair as he fidgeted.

"Relax, you're fine," Draco whispered in his ear, pulling Potter’s arm back down. What possessed him to calm down Potter, he had no idea. Still, it made him stop, and Draco felt all the better for it.

"Please wait quietly." With those parting words, McGonagall left the chamber.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Potter asked Draco. The blond ignored the students around him that leaned in as he explained. Having everyone look at him for guidance was not something he was used to.

"They call your name and you go sit on a stool, then they put a talking hat on you and it will tell you what house you belong to." Crazed looks were given his way, but he ignored them. "It sounds weird, but I'm telling the truth." Yet he could still hear Granger talk to Longbottom about the spells she knew to use for the 'real' test. _Of course, no one believes me. It's not like I lived through it or anything._

Several people suddenly screamed and Draco saw the school's ghosts float in. One ghost stopped their conversation.

"I say, what are you all doing here?"

"We're first years, sir. Waiting to be sorted," Draco replied. If Bloody Baron taught the Slytherins anything, it was to always reply and show respect to the ghosts here, unless they want Peeves after them.

“New students? Oh, joy! Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house you know?" Said Fat Friar.

_Merlin, I hope not._

"Move along now," McGonagall's sharp voice stopped anymore talking to the ghosts. "Time for The Sorting." 

Potter bumped into Draco multiple times as they went into the Great Hall. They entered from the oak doors to the bright Great Hall, loud with students' conversations and lit by hundreds and hundreds of candles floating above their heads.

Draco couldn’t help the soft smile that appeared on his face. This was the Hogwarts he liked. No Dark Lord, no war, no Death Eaters, just... magic. Potter stopped him from running into someone when they stopped, Draco having been looking at the ceiling and not paying attention.

"Bewitched to look like outside," Draco said at the same time as Granger did, who was a person behind them in line. They locked eyes with each other. _I am_ not _going to have something in common with Granger._

"You were right," Potter whispered as he saw the Sorting Hat, making him turn away.

 _Of course I’m right._ "Oh, I am?" He laughed at the slight jump the other boy did when the Sorting Hat began to sing. When its song was over, he heard Weasley muttering about how he was told that they had to fight a troll.

Draco waited for his name, listening to Weasley groan when he heard that Granger was going to Gryffindor.

 _That’s going to change in a few years_. Draco smirked, but quickly put on a blank face before anyone saw.

"Malfoy, Draco." Taking a deep breath, Draco left Potter and Weasley as he went to sit on the stool. The Sorting Hat touched his head and...

Nothing.

 _What? What was happening? Slytherin should've already been called out._ He visibly jumped when the hat began to speak. 

"Difficult. Very difficult," a small voice whispered in his ear and he shivered at the odd closeness.

"Difficult?" Draco hissed quietly. _Just put me in Slytherin, in Slytherin._

"Yes, that would be my first intention, but—"

"But what?" He hissed again before deciding he'd best remain quiet.

"You're not really Slytherin material anymore." How was he not Slytherin material anymore? What did that even mean?

_How would you know?_

"It's all here, in your head. You have more knowledge than most in your year. In any year for that matter..." Draco gulped, but still tried to seem like he had now idea what the Sorting Hat was saying. 

_Oh yeah? What do you see?_

"I see wisdom."

 _I don't have wisdom,_ Draco thought in a flat tone.

"Wisdom comes from experiences. You should know this, Mr. Malfoy."

_Oh, look, I don't. Guess I'll have to go to Slytherin._

"Nonsense, even the greats have to learn. So I might put you in... RAVENCLAW!" Draco felt his face go slack. The Great Hall applauded, mostly from the Ravenclaw table, but the older students were more hesitant, whispering about a _Malfoy_ that is _not_ in Slytherin. 

_This isn't supposed to happen. This isn't supposed to happen. This—_

"Move along, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said and he finally scurried away to the blue table.

Slipping into a seat at the edge of the table, his mind was reeling. He's in Ravenclaw. This isn't right, he should be one table over. He should be messing around with Crabbe and Goyle. He should be uncomfortable with Bloody Baron talking to him. So why was it different this time?

"Are you okay?" Someone asked Draco. He turned to see another sorted Ravenclaw watching him.

"I'm fine." He left it at that. He felt someone staring at him that wasn't the student who inquired after him. _Please don’t let it be who I think it is_. Potter was tip-toeing to look at Draco. Instead of feeling annoyance as he thought he would, Draco instead felt sort of touched that Potter was checking to see if he was okay. _Probably because I'm distressed and my head isn't in the right place._

He waited until Potter's name called out. As he remembered, he took the longest before the hat yelled out, "GRYFFINDOR!" The only thing that changed was that Potter looked back and their eyes met. Draco shrugged, thinking of nothing else to do as he clapped.

When Dumbledore rose to give the Welcoming speech, his eyes drifted to Snape, who was staring at him intently. Draco's eyes didn't linger there long and they soon landed on Professor Quirrell. Draco winced painfully.

Stories had been passed around by Death Eaters that the Dark Lord had used Quirrell a long time ago as his vessel, but then the professor had proved unworthy. At the time, Draco believed that, considering that the teacher wasn't ever seen again after vanishing. Now he didn't want to go to Defense Against the Dark Arts to be proven right. The scent of food made him look away and he filled up on roast beef.

"He's been glancing at you for quite a while," a snickering voice on his other side said. Draco turned to see another Ravenclaw looking at him, a boy.

"Who?"

"Harry Potter." Grey eyes glanced up and he saw Potter looking at him head-on. Potter blushed pink and ducked down, turning to Weasley to start a conversation.

“He's a friend," Draco said. The boy just kept looking straight at the blond, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.

"Sure, if that's what you think," he replied chirpily, then turned his attention back to his peas.

_What is he going on about?_

Dinner ceased and Dumbledore stated the rules, his twinkling eyes sweeping all over the room before pausing briefly at Draco. He called the night over and students rose from their seats.

"Ravenclaws, follow me!" A girl —Draco recognised as Penelope Clearwater— shouted.

With one last look at Potter moving with the Gryffindors, Draco got up to follow his fellow Ravenclaws.

 

* * *

  

After a dizzying climb up a spiral staircase, Draco and the other first years were in front of a wooden door which contained no handle or keyhole, but a bronze knocker shaped like an eagle. Penelope Clearwater knocked once and the eagle's beak dropped open.

“In a kingdom, it was against the law to lie. A man in town declared the law stupid and was later arrested for the crime of saying he never said such a thing when speaking to a castle guard. The next day in trial, the King said, 'You may say one thing. Be warned: If what you say is true, then I'll let you die peacefully, but if it's a lie, you will be burned alive.' The man spoke and the King had no choice but to free him. What did he say?"

“Oh, it always does long riddles on the first days,” Penelope muttered, pushing her blonde hair behind her ear. "All right, what did he say?" She asked herself quietly, trying to solve it. Draco didn’t know what to think.

_Am I supposed to figure out riddles? I could barely remember a Slytherin password! How am I going to—_

“‘I will be burned'," Penelope stated, making everyone look up. “He said ‘I will be burned’ and the king was so confused he had no choice but to let the man go."

"You spoke wisely." Then the door opened to reveal a blue and bronze common room.

Draco was not surprised that the bookcases that lined the walls were overflowing with books, but it was different from what he had expected. It was an airy room, with bronze eagles over the many windows in the common room. Midnight blue carpet reflected the ceiling that was painted with stars. Tables and comfortable looking chairs were everywhere to be used for studying. A giant statue of Rowena Ravenclaw was positioned by another oak door.

“Dormitories are through that door, boys on the left, and girls on the right. You are free to use the books in the bookcases and take them to your dormitories, but do _not_ take them out of Ravenclaw tower. Your trunks should be up there already. I suggest you all get some sleep. Classes start first thing tomorrow morning. Good night,” Penelope said and turned around and started going towards the door. Draco and the rest of the first years followed.

 

* * *

 

 Draco buried himself in the sheets. He had settled in and everyone had thought to call it a night and he happily agreed. His eyes studied his blue, four-poster bed, not over the fact that it was not green nor was the patch on his robes.

Day one and already everything's already screwed up. He still needed to figure out if the story of Quirrell was true, find a way to avoid Snape (who knows what he'd say about Draco being a Ravenclaw?), ward off Crabbe and Goyle, while finding a way to still interact with the Golden Trio to keep an eye on them. He can't be having flashbacks or letting it slip out that he knows something. Finishing the list, he went over and over it again.

This is going to be a long year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I did some research (not really) and decided to throw in what Ravenclaw Tower looks like.


	5. Reliving the Past (and Disliking It)

Draco had a tiring first week. Since he knew Hogwarts so well, he was followed by half of the first year population.

_ "Where's here?" _

_ "Do I go left from the Ravenclaw Common Room, or to the right?" _

_ "Where's this place?" _

Classes were simple, but since he knew everything, he became the one professors would pick to set examples and answer questions when no one else could.

_ "Mr. Malfoy, could you demonstrate this spell, please?" _

_ "Mr. Malfoy, what is the correct answer?" _

_ "Mr. Malfoy, can you help out Mr. Finch-Fletchley?" _

It became annoying very quickly.

While Slytherins mostly had double classes with Gryffindors, Ravenclaws were usually paired with Hufflepuffs. That made talking to Potter much harder.

_How am I supposed to get close to him if we don’t even see each other?!_  To Draco's relief, Potter started sending notes by owl to 'talk about their day'.

Draco also saw students ogling Potter in the hallways, making him annoyed.

_It’s just Harry Potter, stop looking at him like he's some god walking amongst us,_ he mentally grumbled.

Besides that, Draco got more friendly with the boys in his year. He found out the boy who pointed out Potter staring at him was Anthony Goldstein. They started a routine to sit together and talk with Anthony's other friends: Terry Boot and Michael Corner.

On Friday morning, Draco felt Anthony and Michael sit on either side of him while Terry sat in front of him at the other side of the table.

"Hey Draco," they chorused.

"Hi. Made the first week, didn't we?"

"Ugh, I didn't think that magic would be so hard," Michael groaned.

"I know, why bother with History of Magic anyway? Professor Binns actually makes me go to sleep," Anthony added. While they got into a discussion on the necessity of said class, Draco’s owl dropped a letter onto his plate; it contained a messy scrawl that he had begun to recognise as Potter’s. He opened it up.

__

_ **Dear Draco,** _

_ **Hagrid asked if I wanted to go and have tea with him this afternoon. Would you like to come with me? Ron will be coming.** _

_ **Harry** _

_No. In fact, I would like to blast you and Weasley into the farthest corner._  Draco thought before writing back,  _‘Sure, of course’_ and sending it back.

After a long morning of lessons was finished, Draco was wandering the castle when he felt his arm being pulled to make him stop.

“Draco." The voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

“Professor Snape,” he returned, turning around to face the man. “How’s the first week of term going for you, sir?” Draco asked, trying to start a conversation that wasn’t about him.

“Pleasant. How’s Ravenclaw?”

_ Straight to business I see. _

”It’s...”

“You know that your father is going to have your head. I’m saying that in the nicest way possible.”

_ Your tone doesn’t sound like it. _

“I know, sir. I really don’t know what happened. I know that I should’ve been in Slytherin, but the Sorting Hat—“

“Draco.”

“Can... you not tell Father?” Snape scrutinized him.

“Are you feeling all right, Draco?”

“Why would you ask that, sir?”

“You never call me ‘sir' when we’re alone, yet you have done so three times in this conversation. You are not acting like yourself.”

“It’s nothing, professor. Really.”  _I don’t think I can tell him that I’m from the future. Even_ I _would think myself insane._  “I’ll tell you one day.”

“One day? Draco, if something is bothering you—“

“Draco!” Weasley’s shout made the two turn around. Two Gryffindors ran up to them. Weasley looked like he was going to say more, but then he saw that Draco was talking to Snape and his mouth closed instantly. “Professor.”

“Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter.”

“Er, I was just asking about Potions, but we’re done here. Have a good day, professor.”

“Mr. Malfoy—” Snape tried to say, but Draco grabbed Potter and Weasley’s arms to pull them outside.

“Are you actually on  _friendly_  terms with Snape?” Potter asked, jogging to keep up with Draco’s fast pace.

“I would hope so, he’s my godfather.” Weasley made a noise that couldn’t be human.

“Your godfather?!” The two Gryffindors shouted.

“Shh! What’s the big deal? Are we going to Hagrid’s or not?” Draco finally slowed down when they were on the grounds.

“Well, yeah, but still,” Potter began to trail off. “Snape is...”

“Poison,” Weasley interjected. “Just like those gits, Crabbe and Goyle.”

Draco had to swallow a lump that appeared in his throat.

_Am I supposed to be a git?_  Shame and disappointment made his stomach churn.

"Mate, are you alright?" Weasley asked, making Draco banish his thoughts. “You were looking like a kicked gnome. I didn’t mean to be—”

“Yeah, it's okay. I'm just thinking is all.”

"You do that a lot," Potter said offhandedly.

"Probably because he's a Ravenclaw." Weasley snorted.

_I'm not supposed to be, Weasel. I don’t know how my father will react._  That’s right, his father. Oh, Draco’ll never hear the end of it.

Potter's hand suddenly pulled on Draco's arm to stop him from running into Hagrid's steps.

"You really need to stop doing that." Nodding sheepishly, Draco waited for Potter to knock, hearing a dog barking after Potter did so.

“Back, Fang— _back_." Hagrid’s voice was gruff behind the door. "Back. Fang, get back." A hairy face was and warm eyes were seen through the crack of the door.

While Draco politely nibbled on a rock cake, he listened to Potter and Weasley talk about their first lessons, staying out of the conversation. Draco noticed a newspaper clipping from the _Daily_ _Prophet_ under the plate of rock cakes.

**__ **

**_ GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST _ **

"Hagrid?"

"Hm?"

"Gringotts had a break-in?" Draco asked.

"Ah, yeh don't need to fill yer head with all that grown-up stuff." Hagrid fumbled to grab the newspaper.

"It happened on the last day of July?" Wasn't Draco there on that day?

"That's my birthday! It could've happened while we were there!" Said Potter. Draco had to fight the urge to sigh.

_ If his pointing out the obvious is going to continue, I can't do this... _

"Nonsense!" Hagrid dismissed the thought and went to make more tea. The topic wasn’t brought up again.

On the way back, Draco was—once again—lost in thought. If the stories were true that it was Quirrell who was after the Sorcerer's Stone, that means he was narrowly close to killing Potter this year. Draco knew that Quirrell _didn't_  manage to kill Potter, but he would keep an eye on Harry. He needed to protect him. At all costs.

 

* * *

 

"Draco! Draco!" Draco was eating at the Ravenclaw table when Potter and Weasley suddenly sat beside him, interrupting him from finishing his Potions essay he was working on as well.

"What?" He asked, confused as to why the two had silly grins on their faces.

"Harry's on the Quidditch team!" Weasley gushed.

_I know, I put him on there._  Draco jolted when he realised that, _no_ , he didn't this time.

"What?" Draco wasn't in Slytherin anymore. He didn't even  _look_  at Longbottom today. There was no way Potter got on the Quidditch team. "How so?"

"Crabbe and Goyle were being their usual crummy selves and threw Neville's Remembrall in the air and Harry jumped on his broom and caught it!" Draco felt his eyebrows shoot up.

_ Have they taken my place? _

"I'm the youngest player in-"

"A century," Draco finished in a daze. _It happened without me causing it... What does this mean? Can other things happen without me?_

"Yeah, we can finally win a Cup! We haven't since Charlie left!" While Weasley babbled on, Draco's mind was in overdrive, trying to remember what was so long ago.

_Didn't I do something when this happened? I challenged him to a duel, I think... Is that necessary anymore?_  He didn't want to take the chance.

"We should celebrate!" Draco forced a wide grin. "I can't really talk to you two much since we're in different houses. How about we meet in the trophy room and sneak into the kitchens for celebration?" They were agreeing when someone spoke above them.

"Excuse me."

"Can't we have a chat in peace?" Weasley groaned out as Granger stood before them.

“I couldn't help but hear what you three were saying—“

"Bet you could," Weasley bit. Granger just gave him a nasty look as she continued.

"You mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor. I expected a Ravenclaw to know better than to even suggest such a thing! You'd cost both houses. It’s very selfish of you three."

“Well it's really none of your business," Potter muttered.

"Goodbye." As Granger huffed and left, the interaction left Draco's head buzzing.

_ Did the Golden Trio really... hate each other? _

* * *

Draco wanted to kick himself. It wasn't until he was hiding behind a crystal trophy case that he realised that he didn't have to do this.

_It happened before, and what was done then has to happen now, despite everything else that has changed,_ he mentally chided himself. However, a creak of the case made Draco think that this was something he could have avoided, actually.

"Draco?" Potter’s harsh whispering brought Draco relief.

"Over here," he whispered back.

Four figures were at the door. Draco blinked before recounting. There was definitely four. Longbottom was glancing around the room, holding onto Granger's sleeve. While those two seemed as if they wanted to be anywhere but here, Potter and Weasley both wore friendly smiles.

_ That's still weird to see... Don't know if I'll ever get used to them being nice to me. _

"So? Where's the kitchens?" Draco was about to lead them away when he heard a scratchy voice.

“I’ll sniff around, my sweet. Your ears are never wrong,” Filch cooed at his cat, Mrs. Norris, who meowed in response. Potter, in horror, waved at them to follow him.

_Why is Filch here? I didn't tell him we'd be here this time!_  Draco was so confused but quickly decided to think on it later. Running away from Filch, they landed in a gallery of suits of armor.

Longbottom broke into a run, only to trip. He squeaked and grabbed Draco by the waist, causing the two to topple into a suit of armor. Of course, it made a loud noise.

"RUN!" yelled Potter. Darting around a corner, Potter led them into an empty passageway near the Charms classroom. "I think we've lost him," Potter said. Longbottom was doubled over wheezing and gave Potter and Draco incredulous looks, as they weren't even out of breath. Granger and Weasley were panting slightly, and Granger looked as if she wanted nothing more than to murder them.

“We've got to get back to Gryffindor," said Weasley.

"Ravenclaw is twice as far." Draco pushed his bangs to the side idly. "I have to get going. This was completely stupid. I'm sorry."  _Maybe I didn’t have to do this... I don't think I_ did _have to do this._

"Nah, this was kinda fun. Don't say sorry," Weasley laughed. Draco’s lips briefly quirked up before he remembered just who he was smiling at.

"Let's go. We'll walk you there, Draco." Potter grabbed his arm and gently began pulling him forward when something colourful shot down the hallway.

Peeves.

He caught sight of them and gave a sequel of delight. He quickly came over before landing in front of them.

“Peeves, please—don’t do anything," Draco said, his voice soft. Peeves could easily be on their side, it all mattered on how they treated him.

"Ickle Firsties wandering around at midnight? Tut, tut, tut. You'll get in  _troooouble_." his voice was mocking.

"Peeves, don't," Potter said, beginning to look nervous.

"Should tell Filch, I should." Peeves sounded like a thinking toddler. "It's for your own good..."

"Get out of the way," Weasley snapped, taking a swipe at Peeves.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves screeched. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED IN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Running for their lives, the group ran straight to the end of the corridor, slamming right into a door. It was locked.

"This is it!" Moaned Weasley, pushing helplessly against the door. "We're done for! This is the end! Mum's gonna kill me!"

“Move!" Not thinking, Draco slipped his wand into his hand and pointed it at the lock; the door clicked and swung open. They piled in, shutting it quickly and pressing their ears to the door.

"How did you do that?" Granger hissed in Draco’s ear while Filch was arguing with Peeves.

"Do what?" He responded, thanking Peeves for his loud laughter that overlapped their talking.

"Unlock it without saying the spell?"

"I had practice."  _Trying to unlock a magical cabinet can do that to you._

“I think we’ll be okay— _get off,_ Neville.” Potter tried pushing Longbottom off of him when he heard Filch's footsteps getting quieter. " _What is it_?" Potter turned around and figured out why Longbottom was freaking out. They all swiveled around at his gasp.

They were now staring into the eyes of a monstrous dog with three heads. All three heads had drool dripping from bared, giant, yellow fangs. Six pairs of big eyes were glaring at each of them. It began to growl deep from its chest.

Draco glanced down at its body. Only one body, but it was so large that it was filling the whole room. Its front paws each contained wickedly sharp claws that could shred them to pieces with a single swipe.

Draco fell backwards as the others quickly shuffled out of the room. After making sure everyone was out, Potter slammed the door shut as soon as he crawled out. Draco didn’t think or say anything and started running to Ravenclaw tower while the others began to rush for Gryffindor.

* * *

After three times attempting the riddle, the bronze eagle finally allowed Draco inside. Collapsing into an armchair in front of the dead fire, he stared up at the star-painted ceiling.

_ How can I be so stupid? This is one of the dumbest things I have ever done! First, I sneak out. Then, almost get caught by Filch. Not to mention running into that three-headed monster that looked like it could break that trapdoor underneath it at any—  _

He stopped himself. Draco sat up straighter in the armchair.

“Trapdoor?” He asked himself with wide eyes.

That thing was definitely standing on a trapdoor. But where did it lead to? Draco had vague memories, but nothing was clear, it was so long ago. If he noticed it, then the others must have noticed it as well.

"Oh this will be fun..." groaned Draco as he slumped up to the boys' dormitory, wanting to go to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I rushed some parts, but then I’ll be completely copying J.K. Rowling if I slowed down. And no one wants that.  
> Next chapter will be on Thursday.


	6. Troll (and Draco) in the Girls' Bathroom

The next morning, Draco noticed that Potter and Weasley were whispering to each other over breakfast. Grouchy from his lack of sleep, he paid them no mind and only looked up when he saw Anthony sit next to him.

"Mornin' Draco."

"... Morning," he grumbled.

"What's up with you?"

"Nothing, nothing. Couldn't sleep," Draco sighed.

"Yeah, sneaking out will do that to you," Anthony said knowingly, causing Draco to splutter.

"How...?"

"I'm a light sleeper. Don't worry my, lips are sealed." His blue eyes flashed mischievously as he grinned.

"They better be, Goldstein."

"Hey, don't get all angry at me." he laughed before leaving to return to where he left his plate of breakfast.

  

* * *

Another month passed in a blur, and it surprised Draco when he realised that it was Halloween already. Later that day in Charms, Professor Flitwick announced that they would be making objects fly. Draco remembered this lesson. He had had it with the Gryffindors the first time around.  The lesson was when Granger had made it known that she was better than most and, when the class had ended, she was in tears for some reason. Now that Draco was in Ravenclaw, Charms was later in the day. 

 _That must've happened already. Granger must be in some bathroom crying her eyes out..._  Draco could recall rumors passed around Slytherin that Granger was in the same bathroom as the troll and heroic Harry Potter saved her. Maybe he could get her out of the bathroom before the troll came.  _Should I do that? Do I even_ want _to?_ Oddly enough, he did want to help. He wanted to hack at such a thought.

"All right! Wands up, and begin!" Professor Flitwick's high voice snapped Draco out of his thoughts. He turned to watch Terry attempt to raise the feather in front of them. When all the feather did was twitch, Terry huffed and let his wand clatter to the table.

"This is too difficult. Draco, have a go." Doing what Terry said, Draco watched as his feather fluttered ten feet above their heads.

"Ah, look here! Mr. Malfoy has done it! Wonderful! Only Miss Granger has been able to do it today, but it seems you're doing better than she did!"

_No, I'm not anything like Granger. Stop saying stuff like that!_  Draco slouched down in his chair, going red when he saw Terry's admiring face.

* * *

At dinner, Draco didn't look at the decorations, but instead at the Gryffindor table. There wasn't one sign of Granger. He had sneaked around earlier and overheard some Gryffindor girls say that she had been in the bathroom crying all afternoon because of what Weasley said.

_ What Weasley said made her cry? Why did I ever think different? _

Draco's eyes were trained on the door and, as if on cue, Professor Quirrell sprinted into the hall.

"In the dungeons! Troll in the dungeons!—thought you ought to know," he gasped before fainting almost comedically, falling hard onto the floor.

"Ravenclaws! Stick close together and follow me!" Penelope yelled over the commotion.

As students climbed up the stairs, Draco broke away quickly and started running down alongside the Hufflepuffs, heading towards the girls' bathroom. Panting, he looked down the corridor. Seeing no troll, he creaked opened the door before stepping quietly inside.

"Go away." Draco heard Granger's sniffling as soon as the door closed.

"Granger, people are worried." _You should be grateful because I actually have no idea why I am even here._

"Why would you be worried?" She choked, tears still falling.

_Ha, don't flatter yourself, it's not me who's worried._ "Because my friend did this." Draco was proud of himself for not prolonging saying the word 'friend'. "I feel like I'm responsible." Granger was slouching over the sink, the water turned up to full blast before she finally shut the water off.

"No, no." She wiped tears away from her eyes. "It's not your fault, it's that stupid Ronald's."

"He doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut, but I wouldn't think he hates you as much as he lets on. If you gave those two a chance, you three can become close friends, more than I'll ever will."

"Are you kidding? They never shut up about you." Draco felt himself blush, but he shook off the frighteningly warm feeling in his stomach.

“No, if you let them, you three can become the closest best friends in all of Hogwarts. Believe me, they could use some of your help. Come on, I'll walk with you, we'd better get going."

“You sound so sure. Why?“ Granger laughed weakly as she walked towards him.

_ Shit, I need to work on that, I didn't mean to sound as if I know. _ "Well I—" They heard a thump and, coming through the door, a large, gray troll stomped its way into the bathroom. Its head swiveled towards them, beady eyes looking straight at them. As the troll finished getting inside, the door seemingly slammed shut by itself, the lock clicking loudly in the large room.

Draco felt Granger pull on his robe to lead him backwards, both of them bumping into the wall. The troll moved its thick legs towards them as it began to approach them.

Draco wanted to do something, he knew he should, but he couldn't. His wand was up in his dormitory, but it was more than that.

_ The troll melted into the Dark Lord, who was prowling the hallways of Malfoy Manor, a hissing snake by his side. Anger from the troll transpired to rage when the Dark Lord heard the news that Harry Potter was starting to win the war. Screams of prisoners that were tortured by his hand rang in Draco's ears. That one Muggle Studies professor was lying dead on the dining room table. The cold chill that was left after each of the Dark Lord's steps. _

_ He was a monster, worse than a troll, worse than anything. _

_ And Draco was under his command. _

A scream and sharp tug threw Draco slightly off balance as he saw the troll lift its club in the air. The door flew open and Potter and Weasley burst through.

"Pea-brain, over here!" Weasley shouted. While the troll was being distracted, Potter sneaked past to get to Draco and Granger, pulling her arm to move. Draco moved easily, but it was Granger that wouldn't budge, her eyes still on the giant troll swinging at Weasley.

Weasley had nowhere to escape to, so Potter did something that was the bravest and stupidest thing Draco had ever seen in his life. Potter jumped onto the troll's neck and his wand got shoved up the troll's nose, seeing as it was still in his hand.

Draco pulled Granger from the wall with force as Weasley pulled out his own wand and shouted the first spell that popped into his head.

_"Wingardium Leviosa_!" The troll's club flew out of its hand and dropped onto its head with a sickening crack. The floor trembled as the troll fell flat on its face. Potter got up on his feet. Weasley's wand was still raised; he was still shocked at what he had done.

Draco was the one to speak first.

"Is it dead?"

"No, I don't think so," Potter said. "I think it's just been knocked out." Potter bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. 

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of them look up. Professor McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell were there, their eyes moving from them to the troll on the floor. Snape was inspecting of the troll, Quirrell was clutching his heart in fright.

_Dirty_ _faker_... McGonagall was the angriest Draco ever seen her.

"What on earth were you thinking?" She said in cold fury. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitories?" Snape gave Draco a piercing look.

"Please, Professor McGonagall— they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!" Granger had finally stepped into the light, no longer hiding behind Draco.

"I went looking for the troll because I thought I could deal with it on my own—you know, because I've read all about them." Draco had to keep his jaw closed so it wouldn't drop open.

_ Hermione Granger, lying to a teacher? _

"Draco tried talking me out of it, but I didn't listen and I got him caught in my mess. If the others hadn't found me, we both could be dead. They didn't have time to fetch anyone. It was about to finish me and Draco off when they arrived." The other three tried to look less shocked like they knew the story was true.

"Well, in that case..." Professor McGonagall stared at the four of them. "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own? You've could've been seriously injured!" Granger hung her head.

Draco still could not get over it. Hermione Granger, the top witch of Hogwarts for six years, had lied to a professor in her first year to protect her friends?

Her friends.

Which now included Draco.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this. I'm disappointed, but, if you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. The feast is being finished in the houses." As Granger left, Professor McGonagall turned to Potter and Weasley. "You are lucky. Not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You both win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed."

_Did they_ win _points? But they broke the rules too!_  McGonagall fixed him with her glare and his complaints were gone. 

"I should take points away." Draco let his bangs cover his eyes as he ducked his head. "But since you went out of your way to help someone that wasn't even your own house—no points will be taken from Ravenclaw."

The professors sent him on his way, and Draco found Potter and Weasley waiting for him around the corner. It wasn't until they were two floors up that they started to speak.

“Draco, thank you,” Potter said.

_ Never speak of this again. _ "Just trying to help."

"It's my fault... because I said those things and that's what caused her to run off like that." Weasley scratched the back of his head, looking guilty.

"I hope that this will make you three friends. You're going to need her, trust me," Draco simply said, promising he would talk to them tomorrow before heading for Ravenclaw tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what happened at the end there. 
> 
> Next chapter will be Wednesday.
> 
> EDIT: these first chapters are so _cringe worthy_


	7. Quirrell

As soon as November arrived, the weather became very cold. Draco had taken a liking to his Ravenclaw scarf and how his loose hair would be picked up by the wind when he went outside. Classes became more tolerable since they began more 'advanced' magic.

The Quidditch season had also started.

Draco was lucky that that Potter and Weasley became friends with Granger. Now, he wasn't stuck sneaking out to help out the two mindless Gryffindors with their homework. That was Granger's job now.

(“Honestly, we learned about the factors of poisons last week,” Granger told him exasperatedly one day. "I don't understand how they could have forgotten already."

“I know, I know. They’re completely helpless, it concerns me.”)

Draco had to hear Potter’s story about Snape limping and how he might be up to something, but Draco knew better and just simply 'listened'. He wanted to roll his eyes when Potter said how he found Filch handing Snape bandages in the staff room when he wanted his  _Quidditch Through the Ages_  back.

_Stupid book to want back if you ask me..._ Granger was the only one on his side when the story was told to Draco.  _She really is the only level-headed one._

* * *

The next morning, the Great Hall had a more powerful smell of food than usual, and many were talking excitedly.

"Personally, I'm for Gryffindor," Michael Corner said as Draco slid into the spot next to him.

"Isn't everyone?" Terry said.

“Well—" Anthony was going to say something before Draco cut him off.

“Wait, everyone's Gryffindor for what?”

“It’s the first game of the season. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Literally everyone has been talking about it. You live under a rock, mate.” Anthony shook his head as he smiled fondly.

Draco rolled his eyes, glancing over at the Gryffindor table. Potter's plate of toast was untouched.

"Draco, stop looking over at the Gryffindor table. You're going to come off as desperate." Spluttering, Draco wiped orange juice off of the corner of his mouth as he glared.

"Shut up, Goldstein. Can't I be worried? Harry isn't eating." Anthony raised an eyebrow at first but lifted his hands in surrender and went back to talking to Michael and Terry when Draco's glare darkened. He blinked owlishly at his plate, shaking his head slightly.  _Where did_ that  _come from?_

* * *

 

By eleven, Weasley, Granger, and Draco were packed with the Gryffindors in the stands of the Quidditch pitch.

_So much red. Ugh, how do they not get sick of it all?_  He tightened his blue scarf around his neck, snuggling down into it.

"How do you think he's going to do?" Weasley yelled over the crowd.

"Fine," Draco responded looking over at the Slytherin side, momentarily feeling out of place that he wasn’t over there.

He felt jostled and saw a large banner on the top row. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas were holding it up. The words ‘Potter for President' and a lion flashed various shades of red and gold. 

_ Really? I have to deal with these flashy Gryffindors for the rest of the school year? _

As that happened, the players started coming out onto the field. People clad in red and green appeared on either side of the field, marching ahead like they were going into battle. When Marcus Flint and Oliver Wood shook hands, the teams both mounted their brooms, heard the whistle, and then they were off. 

When Gryffindor scored, instead of the disappointment he was waiting to be filled with, Draco was filled with excitement. He actually wanted Gryffindor to score again.

_ What is wrong with me? _

“Budge up there, move along,” someone muttered.

"Hagrid!" Draco jolted into Longbottom's side as Granger and Weasley squeezed in so the man could fit.

"Bin watchin' from me hut. Wasn't the same," he said, patting some binoculars. "No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," Weasley said. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet." Draco looked up to see Potter gliding over the game. When Slytherin had possession, Potter suddenly dived downward. He found the Snitch. The Slytherin Seeker, Terence Higgs, followed him, but Potter was just a little bit faster...

_ WHAM! _

Marcus Flint blocked Potter, sending him tumbling.

Behind him, Dean Thomas was yelling about a red card while Gryffindor howled in rage.

_What the hell is a 'red card'?_   Weasley voiced Draco's question, apparently not knowing what it was either.

“In football, you get shown the red card and you’re out of the game.”

_ Who would call their game 'football'?  _

“This isn’t ‘football,' Dean." Weasley air quoted. Thomas muttered about how the rules needed to be changed. The game resumed, but at one point Potter's broom gave a lurch. The broom seemed to want to buck Potter off. No one seemed to catch Potter acting strangely.

"What's Harry doing up there?" He pointed at Potter, who was desperately trying to stay upright as he was thrown side to side. 

"I dunno!" Hagrid said. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he has no control over his broom..."

Broom jinxing.

_ Oh no... _

"His broom is being jinxed!" Draco shrieked before smacking a hand over his mouth.  _Why are you scared? You know he survives... Stop acting like this_. "Someone in the stands is jinxing his broom," Draco said more calmly. The crowd's collective gasp made them look to Potter, who was hanging onto his broom with one hand, scrambling to get back on.

"Nothin' interferes with a broomstick. You need powerful Dark Magic." Draco had to hold into Longbottom to keep from falling over from the realisation.

_ Dark Magic. The Dark Lord. Quirrell. _

"The teacher's stand! Look at the teacher's stand!" Draco yelled.

"Why?"

"BECAUSE THAT'S WHERE IT'S COMING FROM!" Granger seized Hagrid's binoculars and held them to her eyes.

"He's right!" She gasped. "It's Snape!"

"Yes, it—Wait, what?" Draco tried to grab the binoculars, but Weasley got them first. After Weasley gasped at what he saw, Draco ripped them out of his grip and held them to his own eyes.

Snape was muttering under his breath, staring unblinkingly at Potter, but unlike the other two, Draco looked up to Quirrell doing the same thing. The only difference he had between Snape and himself was the mad gleam in his eyes.

_It's true... Quirrell is working (is?) for the Dark Lord._ _He was this close to everyone the whole time_. Gulping past the large lump in his throat, Draco turned to Weasley.

“It’s Quir—Where’s Granger?" There was a vacant space where the girl previously was sitting.

"Went to take care of Snape." Weasley didn't look at him and continued to stare up at Potter. Draco felt his arm get snatched by Longbottom's hands as he began to sob into his robes.

_Gross_. Time seemed to drag on forever before Potter could get on his broom again, constantly switching from one hand to another. Draco found himself getting more worried.  _Hurry up, Granger. Hurry up_. Finally, the broom stilled, letting Potter swing his leg over to get back on. 

"You can look now, Longbottom," Draco said, his voice clipped as he pulled out of Longbottom's grasp as gently as he could.

Potter sped to the ground and crashed into the dirt, covering his mouth with his hand as he began to gag.

"Is he going to be sick?" Someone yelled as he went on all fours and coughed up something gold. The Golden Snitch.

"I've got the Snitch!" Potter yelled, voice echoing over the stadium. A few moments of confusion happened until it was settled.

"GRYFFINDOR WINS!" Lee Jordan boomed. The crowd went wild.

* * *

Draco and the others went to Hagrid's hut for tea. The four students clustered around while giant mugs were placed in front of them.

"It was Snape," Weasley was saying. "Draco said the jinxing was coming from the teacher's stand and Hermione and I confirmed it was Snape doing it."

_ You are all so idiotic! It was Quirrell! Quirrell! _

“Sorry, Draco, but your godfather might be a psychotic killer.” Draco couldn’t believe that they thought Snape could do such a thing.

"Rubbish," said Hagrid.

_ See? Even _he _agrees with me!_

"Why would Snape do somethin' like that?" Draco tapped on the table with his fingers, an annoying tap to go with his mood. 

_Don't say anything, Draco. Remember. Remember,_ he silently reminded himself.

"I found something on him," Potter explained. "He tried to get past the three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

_No,_ you _think. I actually have brains, unlike you lot._  Hagrid dropped the teapot in shock.

"How do you know about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?" This was the first time Draco spoke since he stepped in the hut.

“Yeah—he’s mine—bought him off a Greek chappie I met in a pub. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the—“

"Yes?" Potter asked excitedly.

"Nothin'. Don't ask me anymore. That’s top secret.”

"But Snape's trying to steal it." Draco glared at Potter, but he didn't notice. Draco _knew_ Snape. Snape was his godfather; he did everything he could to protect him from the Dark Lord. Snape was the only one besides his mother that helped him at all. For that, Draco's top class was Potions and he paid attention to every word he says, glad to be near the surly man again.

"Rubbish. Snape's a Hogwarts professor, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he try to kill Harry this afternoon?" Granger snapped.

_ Dammit, Granger. You were the only rational one; you're just as stupid as the other two. _

"I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! Draco was the one who said look at the teacher's stand in the first place." Draco, who was mocking Granger's bossy tone in his head, blinked slowly when she brought him into the conversation.

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong," said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted the way it did, but Snape would' not try to kill a student! Now listen, all four of yeh—yer meddlin' in things that don' need yer concern. It's dangerous. Forget the dog and you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicholas Flamel-"

"Aha!" Potter yelled. "Someone called Nicolas Flamel is involved too?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself.

"I think we should go. Thank you for the tea, Hagrid." Draco stood up which made Potter grin at him before leading the others out of the hut. Draco stayed back. "Hagrid, I know that Snape didn't do it."

"Ah, yeh have yer head. Figured that with yeh bein’ in Ravenclaw n’ stuff.” Hagrid threw back the last of his drink.

"Yeah, it's someone else. Someone who can do far worse than broom jinxing." Leaving a befuddled Hagrid, Draco left, catching up to the Gryffindors.


	8. Erised

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT’S HARRY’S BIRTHDAY! 
> 
> It was around nine or ten when I first got into Harry Potter… now, it’s one of the my main fandoms that I know so much about. here I am, writing fanfiction…I’ve come so far… LOOK AT ME NOW MOM.

Around mid-December, Draco found outside to be covered in several feet of snow, the lake was frozen solid. No one (aside from Draco) could wait for the holidays to start. 

Crabbe and Goyle appeared on random, asking why hasn’t he asked for them or how come he wasn’t in Slytherin. Draco shoved them away and told them to stop bothering him. They haven’t been back since. 

Potter said he wasn't going to his aunt and uncle's place for Christmas and signed up to stay at Hogwarts. Draco, remembering that blue and bronze patch on his robe, thoughtfully stayed at Hogwarts too. _Who would I rather have? Father or Potter and Weasley?_ He chose the better of the two. 

 

* * *

 

The hall looked spectacular; it was filled with tall Christmas trees, some decorated with candles that seemed to sparkle, others with icicles or glowing orbs. There were also holly and mistletoes that were hung in such places where older students could get caught under then.

"There are others religions, you know?" Anthony said as they stood outside the Great Hall, admiring. 

"Sorry, mate, you're just going to have to deal with it." Terry snickered. Draco turned his head to see the blonde fuming as Terry used him for an armrest. The brunet smiled at Draco. "He's mad because they don't put up Jewish decorations like they do for Christmas." 

"It's an insult to my belief! They should at least—" 

"Goldstein, you're not even going to _be_ here," Draco said. 

"Wouldn't hurt for them to at least _try_." Anthony defended. Draco smiled briefly before pulling his schoolbag in front of him to look for his Potions book. He found that it wasn't there.

"Ah, I left something. I'll see you guys later." Pushing his fringe out of his eyes, he slung his bag over his shoulder, leaving to go to Ravenclaw tower. He passed the library on to see Potter standing outside. "Harry?" Potter turned around, looking away from inside the library. "What are you doing?" 

"Er, I got kicked out. I wandered into the Restricted Section while looking for books of Nicholas Flamel." 

“You _still_ are not over that yet? Honestly,“ Draco hasn’t thought of that day since it happened. Potter pulled him closer, talking in a hushed voice. 

"If we find out who Flamel is then we might figure out why he and Dumbledore are part of and why Snape is trying to steal it." 

"For the last time, Snape isn't trying to steal anything."  _It’s Quirrell._ he wanted to say, but he couldn't. 

“Draco, why are you defending him? I know he’s your godfather, but please—“ Weasley and Granger came out, saving Draco from speaking. 

 

* * *

 

Once the holidays started, Draco started sitting by the fire, reading the books that were all over the Common Room. He received messages daily from Weasley and Potter and was glad that they weren't there to see his distaste when he read about their progress (or lack thereof) on Flamel. Draco had also managed to talk a few older Ravenclaws into nicking three bottles of butterbeer from Hogsmeade for Christmas gifts.

Draco couldn't help the smile he had at the Christmas dinner. Draco would talk to Michael (Terry and Anthony went home) and other Ravenclaws. Laughing at jokes, friendly jostling, open smiles. _This was was better than how it was in Slytherin_. All he did would laugh at others and spend a lot of time alone in the cold dungeons. Glancing at Slytherin table, he saw Crabbe and Goyle stuffing their faces.  _Figures._ He didn't pay attention to them and instead listened to Roger Davies, a third year, tell a story how he ended up the girls' bathroom and swore he would never do it again. 

This was the best Christmas Day Draco ever had at Hogwarts. That afternoon he even had a surprise run-in with Potter and Weasley on the school grounds and they fought in the snow and it was actually... enjoyable. He later refused profusely about thinking such a thing later that day.

 

* * *

 

"Draco!" Seriously, no one ever called him this much. Just as expected, it was Potter hiding behind a suit of armor, calling for him. 

"Yes, Harry?" He hoped that it wasn’t anything important, breakfast smelled wonderful this morning. 

"I need to show you something."

"What is it?" Nothing was in Potter's hands. 

"It's this mirror I found. I can see my mum and dad in it." Draco wracked his brain, finding nothing in his memory that served as a magic mirror to see dead people.

"Huh?"

"Meet with me tonight. Don't tell anyone about it. I'm only going to tell Ron." It sounded rather personal to Draco, something that he shouldn't be part of.  _Weasley should do this, not me._

"Are you sure you want to show  _me_?" Potter's face was confused.

"Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend." Draco's breathing stopped short. _Did Harry Potter just say that? To a Malfoy? To me?_ "I—I'm your best friend?" He couldn't help the awe and wonder from coming out in his voice. "But what about Weasley—"

“Yes, he’s a close friend, but Draco, you're the first friend I ever made.“ Draco felt his cheeks go to a light pink. 

"Okay, Harry. I'll meet you." 

 

* * *

 

 _This might be all be a prank,_ He thought as he pushed himself further in the shadows cast by an armor that was beside the Great Hall. _Why would Harry Potter want me to—_

"Draco!" someone hissed in front of him and he jumped. 

"Who's there?" 

"Me. Oh, wait—" Potter's head was floating in mid-air.

Draco took in a sharp gasp, taking a step back. "Don't freak out! It's just an invisibility cloak." He pulled it off and Draco could see a head attached to a body again. Breathing through his nose, he calmed down. _How did he get one? I thought this weren't around anymore?_

"Where did you get that?" 

"For Christmas. It was supposedly my dad's." 

“But they supposedly don’t exist. How—” 

"Come on, we don't have much time!" He yelped when the slippery cloth was suddenly thrown over his head. 

 

* * *

 

 It was claustrophobic under the cloak. They seemed to walk around under it for hours, and the cold night was starting to get to him. "Harry, it's freezing. Can we just forget it?" the blonde asked, his teeth chattering. 

"No!" Potter hissed. "It's here somewhere." _There's the Potter I know._  Draco was about to lift cloak up to leave when Potter whispered, "It's here—just here—yes!" He grinned as he pushed opened a door. 

"It's in here?" Draco asked as Potter left the cloak on Draco's shoulders, running towards the tall mirror in the empty room.  

"Do you see?" he whispered. Draco walked closer and saw a blank mirror, their own reflections in pajamas staring right back at them. 

"I don't see anything." _Has_ _Potter gone mad as well?_

"Here, stand where I'm at." Potter pulled him to his spot. "Do you see them?" Draco did nothing but gasped.

“I see... myself." Draco in the mirror was seventeen, his real age, but this Draco was different. He was smiling like he did it every day. Mirror-Draco gave a slight wave and his sleeve dropped seeing a… pale arm. 

No Dark Mark.

"Huh?"

"I'm older. I’m _happy_." His mother came into view, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, looking down at him with a smile of her own. "I'm..." His mother was wearing a short-sleeved dress, showing an unbranded arm as well. “I'm free..." There had always been a constant fear inside him. Fear of never being good enough for anyone. Not for his father, not for the Dark Lord. Always be a perfect Malfoy, the Dark Lord's next generation. And yet Draco in the mirror let his mother ruffle his head, laughing all the while like he never had to worry about anything. _Will I ever be like that, though?_   That's when he realised out something. 

He can't do it.

"I don't want to do it—" 

"What is it Draco?"

"I never wanted this to happen." His body felt like lead.  _I never wanted a second chance._

"Draco, you need to talk to me," Potter said. Mirror-Draco was looking at him sadly, pitifully.  _Pity._ A stab of pain shot through him.

"What did I do to deserve this? I'm not worth it," he rasped. _You've should've died permanently. Should've stayed dead, or been locked up, cast out of society for choosing the_ _wrong_ _side. Unless--_  "Is this my punishment?" He fell to his knees, tears stinging in his eyes. "I just don't know what to _do_." 

"What are you talking about?" Draco did nothing but dived into Potter's shirt, bringing Harry down as well. "Draco," Harry's voice was softer, "what are you talking about?"

_Remember. Do not tell._

"I can't say." Draco's voice was groggy, tears still soaking the other boy's shirt. His fingers were clinging onto the worn cotton as he trembled.

"Draco—"

"Please, Harry. Don't make me talk." Draco heard the anguish and sorrow in his voice. So _unlike_ him...

"Okay. Okay, I won't." Skinny arms went around him. Instead of pushing away, like he would in a regular situation, he leaned into Harry's touch. Draco moved up so his face was no longer in Harry’s chest, but his neck. The scent of sunlight came off of Harry and it made him curl even closer to Harry. How was that even possible? 

It went on for a little while, Harry running his hand comfortingly up and down Draco's arm, his other holding them both up. Draco's tears finally dried, and he looked from the other's neck to look at his face. Green eyes shining brightly in the dark, one hand went up to push Draco’s fringe out of his eyes, a gentle gesture. The atmosphere became fragile somehow. Something was hanging in the air, something _shifted_ , but Draco didn’t know what.

“I’m here for you, you know? You can tell me when you're ready. I'll help you."

 _He’ll help me? Like a friend... A real friend._ Warmth spread serenely through him, taking over the bone-deep chill that was caused by walking around on a winter night. 

"Thank you, Harry." He smiled genuinely for the first time in what felt like forever, showing teeth and his eyes scrunched. Harry looked stunned. “Thank you. I’m glad we became friends.” Harry's face went slack momentarily, but it was gone before Draco could question it. 

“Of course—er— we should be heading back.” Harry fumbled to get back to his feet. 

"You're probably right." Draco wanted to ask what's wrong, but it was late already. They really did need to be getting back.

 

* * *

 

Draco saw Harry was tense the whole time they were under the cloak.

_What happened?_

He dropped him off at the foot of the staircase that led to Ravenclaw tower. "Goodnight, Harry." 

“'Night, Draco." Harry walked a little too quickly down the corridor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY POTTER! (AND J.K. ROWLING)! 
> 
> Next update will be Thursday.


	9. Mentions Chocolate Frogs

"He's looking at you again," Michael told him as Draco was finishing his last part of bacon. "I can't believe you haven't realised it yet."

It was the next morning. Draco had spent the good part of the night thinking how he now thinks of Harry as a friend. He shivered at some parts, thinking back to when they first genuinely met compared to now. From their past of fights, detentions, name calling to Draco crying in his arms and thanking Harry (to actually _call_ him Harry). How did he go from that to _that_?

"What? Who's looking?"

"Potter." Draco, who's back was facing the Gryffindor table, turned around to see Harry hurriedly duck down, stabbing his food, his face a bright red.

"What's gotten into him?" He sighed, pushing some hair behind his ear. Michael was giving him wide eyes, one eyebrow raised.

"Can you really not figure it out? Blimey, Draco. You're smart, but really not in a social sense." _I'm new at this, I can be like this._

"What? What is it?"

"I don't even think I should even tell you." Michael was having fun. His voice as taken on a Peeves-like mocking.

"I'm serious, Corner. Tell me." Draco was getting fussy. "You need to tell me." Well, he didn't, but Draco thought so.

Michael just rolled his eyes and patted his head. "When you're older. Looks like you need some time." Draco made a noise of frustration, putting his arms on the table to put his head in. He looked back at Harry, talking to Weasley.

_What happened to Harry?_

 

* * *

 

The day before term started, students came back from holiday. Terry talked about his loud uncle that came to the Christmas dinner while Anthony boasted at the extra gifts he got for Hanukkah. With the term starting again, he got roped into looking for Nicholas Flamel along with the other Gryffindors between homework and classes. 

Draco had no desire to figure out any of that Flamel nonsense. All he needed was the end results and he already knew them. Quirrell never to be seen again and rumors of Harry Potter going into some trapdoor. Wait, t _he t_ _rapdoor under the dog? Is Harry going to go through that trapdoor?_ The rest of that day, he was on edge.

One night, Draco was correcting Terry's Transfiguration essay when a second year, Cho Chang, tapped on his shoulder. “Yes?" _I_ _sn’t she’s Harry’s old girlfri—_

"Harry Potter is at the door asking for you," Cho said, her voice held envy and other people who were studying turned to them. Draco decided to wait till the time comes to worry about Chang.

"He is?"

"Yeah, I just came back from the library and he was standing outside. He couldn't get in." the corners of Draco's mouth twitched. _He can't answer the question._

"Thanks, I'll see what he wants." Pushing up from his chair, he crossed the Common Room, now filling with whispers. He opened the wooden door just enough to see Harry standing there, still in his Quidditch robes. "Harry?" Draco opened the door wider and stepped outside, closing the door so the students straining their ears won't hear. "Why are you here? Do you—" He finally got to look at Harry's face. "You don't look so good. Are you okay?" Draco moved forward, hands aiming for his face, as Harry moved back.

"I'm fine, really." Harry was pale and had dark circles under his eyes. 

"Funny, I don't believe you." Draco went towards him again, but Harry backed up until he was standing on the first step down, his other leg still on the floor above. 

"No, really, I'm fine." Harry started talking about Snape’s sudden desire to referee the next Quidditch game, not moving from his spot nor looking at Draco. "Are you sure he's not up to anything?" 

"There's nothing to worry about. Snape might be rude, but he's not evil. He likes people to think he's cold so they can't misbehave."

"Draco, I'm not saying you're wrong, really, but what about him trying to steal Dumbledore and Flamel's top secret thing?" Draco wanted to run a hand over his face as he took a deep breath. _Merlin, will nothing shut him up about this? Well, he's on the stairs. I can use that to my advantage... No, that will take too much explaining to the professors._

"Trust me, Harry. He's just odd. Nothing to worry about." Draco took in Harry's appearance again and frowned. "You look tired, you need to go to bed," He turned Harry around and began forcing him down the spiral stairs.

“Draco—I can get down myself—" Harry was forcefully being pushed down the stairs.

"I know."

“Then why are you—"

"Take a bath, you smell and you're tense; I can feel it in your shoulders. Eat something. Do you still have candy? You probably do." Draco was rambling at this point. "Eat a Chocolate Frog. Maybe start a Chocolate Frog card collection. I’m not into that sort of thing, but maybe you are. You look like the type. Don't you still have Dumbledore? He can be your first card--" Harry stopped a couple steps before they reached the floor, making him crash into his back.

"Dumbledore!" Harry shouted. "I knew I saw Flamel somewhere before!" Harry jumped the last steps.

"What are you talking about?" Draco followed him. Harry seemed to forget that he was there and turned back to him, smiling so widely it looked like it hurt.

"You're brilliant!" Harry gathered Draco into a hug. He could smell the sweat and the grass from Harry's Quidditch robes. "Absolutely brilliant!"

"Er, that's a nice thing to say, but what did I do?" his cheeks felt warm. Harry lifted his head out off of Draco’s shoulder, seeming to realise what he was doing and hurriedly put Draco back down, his face even redder than Draco’s. 

“T—thanks, Draco!” Harry stuttered and started running down the corridor. "I'll tell you later!"

"Okay..." He climbed back on the stairs and back into the Common Room.

"So, what did he want?" Terry asked.

“No idea. It was weird. By the way, you need to add another four inches to your essay.”

 

* * *

 

He almost hexed the person who hugged him from behind. "Thank you so much, Draco!"

"Er, no problem, Hermione." _Get off of me._  "But, what for?"

It was the end of the day and Draco hasn't really talked to anyone today because of the massive homework checks he was doing for his housemates. He didn't think he would see the three Gryffindors today. 

"Without you, we probably never figure out who Flamel was!" she gushed. Draco looked at the two behind her for an explanation.

"When you said to have a chocolate frog last night, it reminded me of Dumbledore's card I have. Turns out, Flamel has a Sorcerer's Stone!" Harry whispered so no one walking by could hear.

“Okay... what's that?" Draco has never been more confused in his life.

"It's something of extraordinary powers. It produces the _Elixir of Life,_  which makes someone immortal, and transforms any metal into _pure gold_." Granger said excitedly, her bushy hair bouncing. 

"See? This is what Snape has been trying to get to all year!" Weasley said  Draco just stared at them.

 _Immortal life? To never die?_  Before memories could start attacking him, he shook his head. Rubbing one side of his temple with his fingers to ward away an oncoming headache. "Okay... I’m just going to find Anthony.” Draco pointed a thumb at the direction he was going. "I’ll see you later. Good luck on the game, Harry." Without stopping, Draco walked away. He never heard of the Sorcerer's Stone before, and he really wanted to keep it that way. 

 

* * *

 

Draco was bumping elbows with Anthony and Michael in the stands of the Quidditch field. "So, if Slytherin and Gryffindors are enemies; are we enemies with Hufflepuffs?" Michael said out loud as the teams were still in the locker rooms. 

“I don't think so." Anthony scratched the back on his head. "We get along pretty well. I mean, have you seen Diggory and Cho giving looks at each other? It comes off in waves.“

 _Diggory?_  

"No!" Draco said out loud, trying to stop himself from another memory attack. Anthony and Micheal stopped their conversation. “I mean—I haven’t seen anything like that.” Some other Ravenclaws were looking at him from his shout. He glanced all over the field. “Oh look—Dumbledore came to watch!" That caused all eyes to move away from him.

Dumbledore didn't look any different. From the distance, he could still see the same silver beard, the light-coloured robes.

He knew he couldn't keep all the secrets to himself. He needed—wanted—to tell someone. If it was going to be anyone, it would be Dumbledore. _What are you going to say to him, hm? "Professor, I'm from the future where you're dead and the Dark Lord is at large. Also, I changed most of my course of my life already and I have absolutely no idea what to do._ _”_

No. It would be better to wait.

"DRACO! It's already over! Gryffindor won!" His shoulders were being thrashed side to side. “That has to be the shortest match in all of history!” It was Michael speaking. 

"Huh? Already?" How deep can he get into his thoughts? It didn't even seem like that long.

“That was the fastest match I've ever seen!" 

It was the fastest. Though, he didn't really pay attention the first time. He was busy getting attacked by Weasley. _So glad I avoided that..._

 

* * *

 

One day, someone is going to pull his shoulder out of its socket from all the arm pulling. For the what seems like the millionth time, he was pulled into an empty classroom.

"I swear to Merlin, if you Gryffindors make a habit of yanking me out and about, I will hex you." He glared at the three of them through blonde hair that shifted over his eyes when he was pulled. 

"I would wonder what's with the attitude, but I can't right now. Gryffindor won!" Weasley jumped up and down around them.

"Sorry, Draco, but we needed to talk to you. It's about Snape." Granger said.

 _I really don't care. At all._  "Hm, what happened now?"

"We were right, it is the Sorcerer's Stone. Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it." Harry said.  _As if._  “He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy. I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spells that Snape needs to break through-"

 _How did they survive until seventh year?_  Draco thought bitterly.

 

* * *

 

Granger didn't joke when it came to exams. She kept nagging the other three to start working out study schedules and color coding their notes.

"You and Draco don't even need to study. You both know everything!" Weasley moaned.

"Wouldn't kill you to pick up a book instead of copying from one of us," Draco said, rereading chapters in his Defense the Dark Arts textbook.

"Well, are you going to still let me copy?"

"If I'm in a good mood."

"Then I'll never have to pick up a book."

Homework was piled high, much to Harry and Weasley's displeasure. Draco spent most of this time in the library with the three of them. He was helping Harry look up the word "Dittany" he heard Weasley say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

"Jus' lookin'," Hagrid was shifting nervously. "An' what're you lot up ter? Yer not still lookin' fear Nicholas Flamel, are yeh?"

"No-" Draco was about to say but Weasley interrupted.

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago. And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerer's St-"

"Shhh!" Hagrid and Draco both hissed at him.

"Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"Actually, we have a few questions. What else is guarding the stone beside Fluffy-"

"SHHH! Listen--come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbititn' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh-"

"See you later, then," Harry said and Hagrid shuffled off, but Draco kept looking at him till he left the library.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" Granger said thoughtfully.

"My thoughts exactly." muttered Draco.

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?"

"I'm going to see what section he was in," said Weasley. He came back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms, slamming them onto the table. "Dragons! Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons!" Golden letters glittered on various volumes on the depicting the word. 

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I met him," Harry said.

“The dragon I saw--" Draco mumbled to himself, but stopped when the three of them were looking at him.

"What did you say?" Granger prodded.

"Nothing." Draco opened up his textbook, trying to find the chapter on stunning spells. "Can I come with you?" He pointed the question more so at Harry.

"You're coming with us, but do you know what's Hagrid up to?" Granger asked again.

"No. Nothing. I'll see you later. I need to work on Charms and Michael is better at that." Before Harry could protest, Draco gathered his books in his arms and almost ran out of the library.

He didn’t notice Granger still looking after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you people are so lovely with all your comments. I'm so happy you're liking the story!  
>  
> 
> Chapter 10: Sunday


	10. Detention & Dragons

He almost slipped away at the front door of the gamekeeper's hut if Weasley didn't catch his arm. "Draco, where are you going?" _Some place far from here._

Dragons were something Draco wanted to stay away from ever since the fourth year. And something about fire not under careful control didn't sit right with him... "I-I actually have to help Anthony and Terry with homework, they are so helpless sometimes, and Michael can't handle them both at the same time." To say Draco had formed real friends without any forced action would be a myth to him in the past, but he learned to like Michael’s cool attitude, Terry's bluntness and how Anthony could get annoyed so quickly.

"Mate, I think you can lay them off for this one day." Weasley kept a firm arm around Draco, neither of them seeing the glance from Harry as he was about to knock the door. Granger was barely in when Hagrid shut the door on them. It was boiling in the small hut. Draco's hair was already feeling limp and sweat prickled on the back of his neck.

They all sat awkwardly around the small table. 

"So—yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yes. We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Sorcerer's Stone apart from Fluffy."

"Guys, enough—"

"Shush, Draco." As Draco gave him a bewildered eyes, Harry edged closer in his seat closer to Hagrid.

"O' course I can't," Hagrid said. "Number one, I don' know meslef. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn't tell yeh if I could." Draco opened his mouth to laugh when Harry shoved a hand over his mouth. It got a weird look from Hagrid, but Granger distracted him.

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything. Otherwise, Dumbledore wouldn't trust you to help with the Stone." she used a sweet voice. Draco tried to push Harry's hand away, but it clamped tighter on his mouth. He shot him a glare; in return, got a red-faced Harry with an apologetic face.

“Well, I don’ s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that... let's see... Fluffy from me… then some o’ the teachers did enchantments... Professor Sprout — Professor Flitwick — Professor McGonagall—Professor Quirrell — Dumbledore did something of course. Oh, yeah, Professor Snape."

"Snape?" the three Gryffindors shouted. Draco tried ripping Harry's arm away, but fingernails digging into his cheeks made his arms slowly fall down.

"Yeah- yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about to ter steal it."

That's when Draco made his move. He slapped Harry's hand away and stood up, making the chair scrape against the floor. "I've had enough of this. Just—completely done." Having Harry's sweaty hand keeping him from speaking was the last thing he wanted to put up with. "I need to go." He pushed past Hagrid to get to the door.

"Draco—wait. I'm sorry—"

"Save it. It's not that — it's—" He looked at Weasley and Granger looking at him oddly from the table. Hagrid gulping down tea as Harry giving him a pleading look. _When did it become "Harry?"_ "Everything."

"Draco, what are you talking about-"

"Enjoy the dragon, Potter." Hagrid spewed his tea on the three as he shut the door.

 

* * *

 

Carefully, Draco avoided the three the next day. Walking faster when Weasley was looking at them, giving glares at Harry, ducking his head into his Potions book when he saw Granger's bushy hair.

One week past before was shoved against the wall at wandpoint. “Granger, move your wand." 

"Why have you been avoiding us?" Harry's question overlapped Granger's.

"How did you know about the dragon?"

"Let me go." Draco tried pushing off the wall, but Granger’s wand pressed closer into his neck. “Granger—“

"How?"

"When I was leaving, I noticed a black egg in the fire. Anyone with common sense could figure it out." The lie came smoothly enough.

"See, Hermione? Nothing's up." Harry gently grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him off the wall.

"Now, can we have our best friend back?" Weasley whined.

"Fine. Sure. But something's up with you, Malfoy, and I'm going to figure out what it is." the snooty tone of hers was back. 

"Oh, joy," Draco muttered.

"Why have you been avoiding us?" Harry asked again.

"I needed to clear my head from a few things. I was a little tense that day and you just tipped me over the edge." Harry bowed his head and Draco grabbed his shoulders to make him look up. "But it's fine now, I promise." Harry nodded.

"Mate, listen. The dragon's hatched, and Hagrid thinks he can take care of it. I wrote to my brother and he said he could take it on Saturday night. You in?" Draco looked at Weasley dead in the eye.

“Has it begun spewing fire?"

"Yeah."

"Then no. Do it yourself."

"What? Why-"

"Fires don't sit well with me."

 

* * *

 

Draco was having a dream that he was ratting out the Gryffindors to McGonagall. _“I swear professor! They have a dragon. They_ _’ve been taking care of it in the gamekeeper’s hut. Just follow me to the hut—“_

He was startled awake when he ran into the wall.

Blinking rapidly, he was in a corridor. A corridor. Late at night. Looking over, he had no idea which corridor it was. 

 _Did I… sleepwalk?_ _I've never done that._  What's happening to him? Sleepwalking? Did the future start taking matters into its own hands? Is he no longer in control over his _own_ _life_? 

"Mr. Malfoy?" A sharp voice almost made him run into the wall again.

"Pro—Professor McGonagall?"

"What are you doing out of bed?"

"I was... sleepwalking."

"A likely story."

"No, professor, understand. I really have no idea how I—"

"Follow me. I'll take you back to the Ravenclaw tower." She started walking very fast. "Hurry up."

"Yes, professor."

"And since you were out of bed, I think a detention will make you understand to never do that again?" They were passing the Astronomy Tower.

“But I really don’t know how I—" It was stupid to keep fighting. "Of course, professor."

"Good."

He got a detention. He didn't willingly sneak out. Was getting out of bed to tattle on the Gryffindors that important? It shouldn't have been. _So why?_

Draco walked a little closer to McGonagall.

 

* * *

  

"Stop being friends with Harry Potter."

"Good morning to you too, Terry."

“Harry Potter and some other idiot first years just cost us Gryffindor the House Cup." Terry was shoveling eggs in his mouth straight from the serving dish, not bothering with a plate.

"Why are you so mad about it?"

"You know how much I wanted Slytherin to lose their winning streak? I was gonna rub it all over Goyle's face. Now, I can't do that. So, for the time being: Ignore them." That got a couple of nods from the students next to them. On instinct, he leaned off to the side to see the Gryffindor table. Cold shoulders were giving to the Golden Trio along with Longbottom.

He saw Harry looking sad throughout the weeks and that made him want to just forget about things and help him out. He was close one time, but Anthony hauled him away.

 

* * *

 

At eleven o'clock sharp on the night of his detention, Draco was in the entrance hall. The wall became an interesting thing as he stood there with Filch, waiting for the other “troublemakers” that was also going to be there that evening. 

Three set of steps that belonged to Harry, Granger, and Longbottom echoed as they appeared. "Follow me." Draco fell into step with the others as they marched outside to Hagrid’s hut. Harry's expression brightened when he saw it was Hagrid who they will spend their detention with, but Filch put an end to that very quickly. "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy- it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll come out alive."

The forest was black and silent. Harry, Granger, and Hagrid went to the left of the fork while Draco and Longbottom went to the right with Fang. They spent the few minutes wondering. Draco, looking for glimpses of unicorn blood, Longbottom, practically on top of him clinging on tightly. 

"Neville," Draco's voice was tight to hide his annoyance. "Can you please help me? Nothing's going to get us."

"Sorry, sorry." Longbottom pried himself off of Draco and cast his nervous eyes all over the forest. Silence went between them. "Why have you been avoiding Harry?" that caused Draco so off guard that his foot snagged on a tree knot, causing him to trip slightly.

"Pardon?" He squeaked.

"You've been ignoring Harry and them. They miss you, especially Harry." Draco's face burned in embarrassment. "What's wrong? Did they do something?" 

 _Like I would tell you, Longbottom._ "It's--something going on in my life. It's slowly taking over my every thought. I rather not bother you with it." He walked ahead to not see the look on Longbottom's face.

"You can tell someone. Tell someone who can help."

"That's it. Who can help me? No one."

"Well, what about-" Fang growled at a moving bush. "What's that?"

"It's probably nothing-" A cloaked figure jumped out of the bushes and ran off into the denser part of the trees. _Is that—_ The glow of red was making shadows on the trees. "Longbottom! What the hell?" Draco didn't like Longbottom as all for most of his life. The only time he was a tiny bit bearable was when they were in seventh year and finally grew a pair.

"I—I panicked. S-sorry."

"Dammit, now Hagrid's going to look for us now. We need to move."

"You can't say stuff like that." Longbottom's voice was high pitched.

"Alright, alright. Come on let's meet him." Draco ground out the words.

Minutes of the sound of rustling leaves and they met with a crossbow wielding gamekeeper. "What happened?"

"Something moved about in the trees. It wasn't an animal." Longbottom was holding on to himself, most likely scared to ask Draco for comfort. _Wouldn't give it to him anyway._

"'S probably nothin'. Come on, we'll switch groups so Neville will be with me." Glaring at the back of Longbottom's head, he followed until he met Harry and Granger were standing in the clearing. "Neville just got a bit scared. How's about we switch up the groups? Hermione, with me 'n Neville. Draco, you can go with Harry."

"Can we have Fang?" Draco rushed.

"Sure, sure." So they set off once more. The blonde thought this would be better than with Longbottom, but he was wrong. Harry was walking really fast with the lantern. It made it hard to see where he was going.

"Harry, why are going so fast?" Draco huffed. 

"What? I was?" Harry seemed startled.

"You're walking like I'm going to jump you." he furrowed his brow.

"No! No, no. Just... I thought you hated me..." Harry stopped walking. “You’ve avoiding me for the last few weeks." Draco stopped walking. 

"Harry... you idiot!" Draco punched him roughly in the arm. 

"Ow! What?" 

“Why would I hate you? It was Anthony and Terry. Something about the House Cup, but Harry... I think of you... you are... you’re… my best friend, okay?" His face felt uncomfortably warm again. 

"Do you mean that?" 

"Harry, please, this is embarrassing enough. I care... a lot about you. And I don't know what I'd do if you said you didn't want to be friends anymore." He would add on how he wanted to protect them from the dark times to come, but knew he couldn’t. Harry was still a kid, he wasn't ready. 

"Then tell me what's bothering you." 

"It's not easy. I... need time. It’s not easy to confess secrets, especially with secrets like mine. But can we forget about these past few weeks?” Draco felt his cheeks past the colour pink to a dark shade of red. 

"Yeah—of course. But, I need to tell you something as well." Harry was looking at the forest floor. “Something very important. It took me longer than it should have to figure out, but I wanted to be sure.“ 

“It’s fine, Harry. You don't have to—" 

"No, I want to tell you. I..." Harry gulped very loudly, confusing Draco so very much. “care about you a lot, too. And I—I—need to say is that-- what I need to say is that I really, really, _really_ li—“ A twinkle caught Draco's eye.

"Wait, what's that?" Past Harry, Draco saw a clearing and the moonlight was making something seem to glow on the ground. "I think it's the unicorn!" Rushing past Harry (hearing a sad sigh behind), he went to look at the unicorn. It was beautifully sad. 

It's legs twisted at angles, pearly white hair making a stark contrast against the dark leaves. "It's beautiful," Draco whispered. Harry took one step closer and something slithered out of the shadows. A hooded figure stalked the dead unicorn. Draco felt his blood go cold, his heart stopped.  _It's him._ The chilling of cold air around them made him sure it was no mistake. 

_It's Him._

"Harry—" he blindly grabbed for Harry's sleeve. "Run. Move."  He forcefully made Harry move as Quirrell began drinking the unicorn's blood. Harry doubled over, pressing his fingers over his scar. He almost fell to his knees, but Draco kept him up, Fang nipping at his ankles to keep going.

Feeling Harry's hand go around his wrist, Draco pulled both of them, running past small, forest-floor creatures, tripping over tree knots out of fear until they heard someone shout. "Harry! Draco! Are you alright? Neither of you looks well." 

"We're fine, Hermione," Harry spoke for the both of them. 

"You both are shivering. Come on, Hagrid's over there. Detention's over." 

Detention was the last thing on Draco's mind. He just saw the Dark Lord. He wasn't walking or had a body, but he was alive. Alive and breathing. Far earlier than fourth year. 

This happened all under Draco's nose the first time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 11: Monday, August 17


	11. The Ending of the School Year

The only plus Draco could find about being from the future was that exams were simple. All he had to do is skim through some chapters to refresh his memory, but other than that, Draco was always the first to finish in the exam hall. 

Even with the burden of exams was nonexistent, he felt jumpy and kept looking in the corner of his eye to see if any shadows followed him. Draco had more sleepless nights, each dragging on until one time he was still tossing and turning as he heard the other Ravenclaws get up for breakfast.

As the time of the final exam stopped, Draco was grateful that he no longer had to keep up with school work. He found Terry and Anthony practically running out of Binn's exam hall. As he walked over next to Terry, they were already talking.

"Exams, over!" Anthony sighed happily.

"Finally! You think with us being Ravenclaws we could handle it." Terry rubbed the back of his neck.

"I wish, the only one who's not breaking a sweat is Draco over here." Michael nodded over to him, seeming to materialize next to the blonde.

"Er, I think I did pretty horrible if you ask me..."

"Seriously? Have you _seen_ the marks you get on homework?" Terry asked.

"No... I don't really pay attention..." Draco didn't keep on top of his grades as much. Dreams and annoyance of the Golden Trio made him busy.

"Grrr," Michael grumbled. "You're smart _and_ good-looking! Come on, Draco!" Michael shoved Draco's arm. "Leave something for us!" _Leave what?_

"Yeah!" Anthony wrapped an arm around Draco and lead the others outside towards the Black Lake. As they were about to be out the doors, Michael was bumped and thrown off by a flurry of black robes. The robes stopped and Draco, limited with Anthony's arm still around his shoulders, strained his neck to see it was Harry. Harry's breathing was heavy and Granger and Weasley seemed to follow and stopped as well. He looked like he wanted to say something, but his green eyes drifted to the other Ravenclaws there and promptly turned back around and ran to the entrance hall the two Gryffindors running after him.

"What was that?" Michael mumbled, rubbing his shoulder.

"Beats me. Come on, I know a good spot down by the lake." Anthony pushed Draco forward.

 

* * *

 

The next morning had students buzzing and only Granger was seen at the Gryffindor table. Roger Davies was talking to the Ravenclaws that Harry Potter and two first years he hangs out with went to the third floor that was strictly _forbidden_ even by _Dumbledore_ and went into a trapdoor that held the _Sorcerer's Stone_ and that  _Quirrell_ tried to steal it. When word reached Draco, his fork clattered loudly on his plate. "Mate, it's okay. Potter's probably fine." Terry soothed, but Draco had no doubt about that, it was him that didn't feel fine. When he tried to visit the two in Hospital Wing, he was turned away because of all the Gryffindors were visiting.

The next day he saw Weasley sitting next to Granger, but still didn't see Harry. Having not seen Quirrell in two days threw him of any confidence that the rumors were rumors which we steadily spreading. _Since when did you become afraid..._  he asked himself later that night doing the familiar routine of tossing and turning.  _Oh… you’ve always been afraid. My mistake._ _  
_

 

* * *

 

"Mr. Malfoy." A voice called out. Draco didn't have any more patience by the third day and still no sign of Harry so he was going to the Hospital Wing early in the morning.

"Professor Dumbledore!" he saw the old wizard calmly walk towards him, which made him panic. This is the "first time" he'd seen Dumbledore up close. Alive and well... _Alive_...

"There's no need to shout, Draco." Dumbledore had light blue robes, his silver beard shining with golden half-moon spectacles.

"S-sorry, sir." He looked everywhere but the professor. _Again with the stuttering!_

"Walk to me to the Hospital Wing? I think Harry's going to wake today."

"Harry wasn't awake?" 

"No, he still _is_ not awake at the moment. Do you want to see him?"

"Yes. Of course..." Draco walked next to Dumbledore, shooting glances up at him. _Tell him, tell him, tell—_

"Why didn't you see Harry yesterday?"

"I wanted to! Very much so, but Madam Pomfrey said there were too many visitors..."

"That is too much like her. Don't tell her I said that, please."  _Please? Why does that seem so familiar?_

"Is there something you want to tell me, Draco?" Dumbledore asked and he felt himself stiffen. Draco didn't say anything aloud, right?

"Why—why would you think that, professor?"

"You're very odd. Don't take that wrong." Dumbledore saw the look he was given. "That's good, everyone's odd, but you are something a little different. But if you want an excuse, it's your eyes. How are they so old on a face so young? What is your secret?" Dumbledore peered down at him with his half-moon spectacles. "You're very odd, my boy."

"Professor—It's—It's—" _Tell him!_  "True." He pushed his bangs out of his eyes just for them to got back in place, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. "Something is up with me. I need your help. It's about—"

"Oh look, we're here." Dumbledore stopped in front of the Hospital Wing's oak doors.

"Professor, please. I need to tell you this a soon as possible—"

"There will be a time for it Draco, but for now, enjoy your young age, you'll miss it." he was silent for a moment. He wasn't young.

"Of course, sir." Dumbledore went to the side of Harry's bed. Harry had his eyes firmly closed, matted dirty black hair feel all over the white pillow. After a moment, there was movement and a hand went to reach out Dumbledore. Green eyes shot open and Harry began to babble about the Stone and Dumbledore kept on soothing him till he stopped. Draco felt he was not part of the moment, awkwardly standing at the foot of the bed. _You don't. You probably would’ve been in the Slytherin Common Room._  His lips turned down into a frown. Listening back in, he heard Harry ask. "But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"

"If there's one thing Voldemort doesn't understand it's love." Draco's responsive shiver happened with the Dark Lord's name. "Your mother died to save you. That is protection that lasts us forever. No source of magic or scar can compare to it. It is set deep within, into your skin. It was agony to touch something so good." _Love? No wonder I didn't make it far._

His mother loved him and Snape to a point, but that was all automatic. They _had_ to love him, he was connected to them in some way. If Snape wasn't his godfather than he wouldn't help Draco with anything, Draco himself would do the same. Crabbe and Goyle, they were walls he used to push away others. Pansy was just a lovesick girl and Draco took advantaged of that. _Merlin, who would love you Draco?_

"Draco? Draco? Mr. Malfoy?" A warm voice brought him out of his slightly twisted thoughts. Draco looked up to see the professor chewing on a jellybean. _How do you space out that long?_

"I'll leave it to you to tell the story." Dumbledore turned to leave. "Draco, when you and Harry are done could you please tell Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger that he's awake?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Good day!" Dumbledore walked over the door and out to the hallway, leaving Harry and Draco to be alone. There was a moment of awkwardness.

"How are you feeling?" Draco sat on the edge of the white bed.

"Fine, fine." Harry didn't look at him in the eye. 

"So... what really happened down there?" It was there that Harry spilled everything. From the mirror to burning Quirrell's face, his eyes seemed glued to the white bedsheet. Draco shivered and even full-on cringed at some parts, but otherwise was calm.

"Wow, Harry. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, but, what about you?"

"Me?"

"Er, no offense, but you look... tired." Draco subconsciously pulled his hair from behind his ear.

"Because I was worried about you, idiot," he muttered, which technically wasn't a lie. "I couldn't see you at all yesterday and when you bumped into Michael in the hallway I didn't know what to think." 

"Sorry."

“I know you just woke up from fighting the Dark Lord, but I need to ask about something.” 

“Okay, what?” 

"The forest." 

"Er, what about it?" Harry moved his head all over the room but not in Draco's direction. _  
_

"You said you had to tell me something. What was it? I don’t think I got it.“ Harry stared hard at his hands in his lap.

"Nothing. Nothing important." His gaze didn't leave his fingers.

"Really?" Draco felt an eyebrow raise.

"Yeah, nothing. It's nothing."

"Harry, you're sounding like me. That's not good."

"It's not relevant... anymore." Harry was still not looking at him.

"No?"

“Yep! It’s—It’s already passed and gone. Yeah, gone,” Draco tried to hear any trace of lying in Harry's voice, but couldn't hear any.

"Alright, I'm taking your word for it. Bye, Harry. You need some rest to be at the End of the Year feast and I don’t want to get caught by Madam Pomfrey. I’ll be looking for you.” He saw Harry wave slowly and he turned around. A loud _thump_ reached his ears and he turned back around to see Harry had hit the back of his head against the wall, his eyes closed tightly. “Did you hit your head?”  _On purpose?_ _  
_

"I'm good! I need some rest! Bye!“ and Draco left to give Harry his "rest."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12: Friday, August 28th (maybe)


	12. Stupid Harry Potter

Draco finally pushed his trunk on the rack above him and dropped himself on the seat. He watched as students hurried on the Hogwarts Express, desperately trying to get seats with friends. _Finally. First year is over. That was emotionally and psychically draining._  Draco felt his eyes burn from being too dry. He didn't sleep well last night. _But now peace and quiet until I—_

“Draco!”  _I spoke too soon._

"Hey, Harry... guys." He wanted to throw himself out the train window as the three Gryffindors squished themselves in. _Sadly, these windows don't open..._

"Craziest first year anyone could have, right?" Weasley said, eyes bright. _Don_ _’t remind me._  “I bet Bill or Charlie never had such a year. And, look! We won the House Cup!" He was practically bouncing in his seat. 

"But they should've given something for you, Draco," Granger said, her voice soft. His gray eyes turned to her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Look, Draco." _Stop using my name, banshee._  Draco still hasn't forgiven her for pushing him into the wall and trying to pull out his secret. "We—I—got off of the wrong foot. I kept thinking you were out to get us." _I was friends with them before you were, overbite._  "But, I was being stupid and I would like to start new." She held out her hand. "Hello, my name is Hermione Granger, it's a pleasure to meet you." _Really, this is the best you can do?_

"Draco Malfoy." he briefly shook hands with her. _This is not over..._

"But I would like to know what you're hiding. One day. I'll figure it out." Granger smiled.

"That'll be the day." He gave a smile to her, which was really fake.

"So, Draco," Harry finally spoke. "How are you going to be spending your summer?"

"I might get the I'm-disappointed-in-you silent treatment from my father."

"What for?" Weasley asked.

"Because I'm in Ravenclaw."

"So?" Harry questioned.

"Harry, my family is one of the oldest in the Wizarding world. They were all in Slytherin, all of them. My Sorting was a very big deal to my father. Merlin, I don't know how he reacted." Draco rubbed his forearms. He _was_ in Slytherin, he could still remember the cold, damp air of the dungeons. He _should_ be in Slytherin. How was he going to explain?

"Well, that's stupid. But if your dad is really the way my dad always goes on about, I'll be wishing you luck." Weasley looked out the window of the moving train.

"Luck can't cover me."

 

* * *

 

His breath wavered when the train shrieked to a stop. As soon as he stepped outside that door, he was going to be faced with his father.

"'Right then, guess this is where we part. We'll owl to each other, right? Harry? Draco?" Weasley asked as he pulled down his trunk. 

"Of course," Harry said and looked over at Draco. "Would you write back?"

"If I do, I expect not to be put off and responded to immediately." he flicked his blonde hair back and Harry quickly looked away to pull out his truck, but he was doing it too quickly. Weasley jumped out first, disappearing to find his family. Draco stepped out after him and went the opposite way. 

He didn't have to go very far to find his father, once more, in muggle business clothes.

"Draco." Lucius' voice was clipped and it made Draco stand straighter.

"Father." He saw his mother standing behind him, looking very calm. 

"How was Ravenclaw tower?" Lucius was so close to spitting out the word.

"Father, I can explain—"

"I don't want to have this discussion in public. There's a reason I didn't response as soon as I got the news. I wanted to tell you face to face. I find it agreeable, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Follow your mother," Lucius said and turned away to the brick wall. Draco's mother went next to him and put her hands on his arms, rubbing his left arm as they walked.

"Don't worry, love. This will pass." She whispered in his ear.

 

* * *

 

"Draco," He wanted to duck down, but that wouldn't help him at all. "I gave you expectations. Did I not?" They were sitting in his father's office. The office he used for his work at the Ministry of Magic which was all for business and the place Draco would go for his lectures and punishments.

"No, sir. You gave them to me."

"And what was part of those expectations?" He hated when his father did that. Pulling the words out of him so they sound three times more worst.

"To be a Slytherin, sir."

"And look what you didn't do."

"Father, please—"

"Draco, enough." Lucius rubbed his closed eyes. "I now have to carry the burden of embarrassment that the Slytherin line of the Malfoys has been broken by my own son." Draco couldn't help the burn in his cheeks. Lucius said it like it was the worst possible thing in the entire world. "And did I see you coming out a compartment after a _Weasley_ climbed out? I never felt more ashamed. We are above those traitors.“ Draco fisted his hands over his knees. _He_ was ashamed? Of his _Sorting_? When he followed the most psychotic man to ever walk the earth, he didn't feel ashamed _then_?

"I'm sorry."

“Apologizing never fixes the problem. What would apologizing do?“ Draco's lips curled into his mouth. “Answer me.” Lucius snapped. 

"Nothing, sir. It won't help anything."

"Now, for your punishment, I think I should—"

"Dear, don't you remember the letter?" Draco whirled his head around to his mother. Narcissa was standing by the door frame.

"What letter?"

"The one Dumbledore sent. Saying Draco had the makings of being one of the most powerful wizards in history?"

"We never got such a letter." Lucius was talking through clenched teeth.

"It was sent recently so I guess you didn't know."

"Let me see it." Narcissa stepped into the room, a creamy envelope in one of her hands. Lucius ripped it out of her hand and started skimming through.

"Dumbledore goes on how the professors are beyond impressed on how advanced his magic is and how he got top marks in his entire year." She went beside Draco and set her hands on the back of his chair. _Did Dumbledore send out a letter? Anthony and Terry_ weren't _lying about my marks?_  "And it's not like he got Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Merlin, forbid. In the compartment, you didn't see Harry Potter get out as well?" His mother's voice was light, they way she talked to house guest she hated. Lucius didn't speak for a very long time. He seemed to be thinking about something long and hard... "Draco, explain how you are not friends with the Weasley and instead friends with Harry Potter."

"It's very true! I have to endure the pain of being near a... blood traitor, but that is the only way I can be close to Harry Potter." He tried not pause at the traitor comment, but he couldn't help it.

"Fine." The anger drained and dissipated to tired disappointment. "This is suitable. I expect you to always be the top student and make trusts with Harry Potter." Draco almost fell out of his chair. _That was it? Am I off the hook?_ He couldn't be. It was too easy, way too easy. There had to be a catch.

"Of course, sir."

"I will never be over you getting Ravenclaw."

"I understand."

"But I expect this 'powerful wizard' future to happen."

“I will not disappoint you again." 

 

* * *

 

Draco let his door click loudly, the sound seem to echo all over his large room. I needed to kick something. Hex anything. He roughly ran his hand through his hair. Disappointed in him for getting sorted into Ravenclaw? What was the big deal? It was just a house. He’s not different. If anyone was different it was the stupid Gryffindors. 

“Stupid Harry Potter!” 

“Who’s Harry Potter, Master Draco?” 

“Dobby!" He laid a hand on his abruptly spiked chest. "Do not scare me like that!” 

“Very sorry, Master Draco! Dobby did not think, he didn’t. Dobby should never listen in on Master or Master’s family's conversations!” Dobby fisted his pillowcase uniform. 

“It’s fine. Do **not** start freaking out. Just tell me why you’re there.”

“Lady Narcissa told Dobby to come up.”  _Mother_ _… This is something you cannot send help for._

“Say Dobby, want to know who Harry Potter is?” Draco needed to complain. Something he hasn't done properly all year.  

“Master Draco doesn’t need to—“ 

“Too bad, I need to talk.” Draco moved over to his bookcase, trying to find a book that wasn’t about Pureblood etiquette. “Harry Potter is this round glasses wearing, idiot Gryffindor that most likely got me into this mess.” 

“What mess, sir?” 

“Never mind that. You know that everyone thinks he’s a gift to the Wizarding World?” 

“How so?” 

“Because he defeated the Dark Lord as a baby. He probably doesn’t even remember it! Then he has to be a nice and friendly and it just makes me… makes me… sick! But then he was nice to me and then I didn’t feel sick and I was… actually _worried_ for him.” Draco’s emotions were getting twisted and twisted (and being a hormonal eleven-year-old didn’t help either). Nothing made any sense anymore. One moment, he didn’t want anything to do with Harry then the other, he can’t stop worrying. “You know, this past year he had a run-in with the Dark Lord again and defeated him once more. He showed me a mirror and I felt like a true friend to him and not his Slytherin arch-nemesis—” 

“I thought Master Draco was in Ravenclaw.” He stopped short.  _What are you even_ talking _about Draco?_

“I—I am!” Draco blushed. “Why are you still here? Get out!” 

 

* * *

  

Draco was dreaming of warm arms of a nameless person. He never felt so... comfortable. It felt familiar, but Draco did not know where it belonged to. There was a vague scent of sunlight on their clothes, but Draco could not think of someone that smelled that way. He buried his head in the center of the person and he felt thin arms go around him. They were short and was a bit too skinny. _Kinda like—_

A loud _crack_ jolted him awake. Through messy blonde bangs, he squinted until he was staring into saucer-wide green eyes. "Dobby?" his voice was heavy with sleep. “What do you want?” 

"Dobby is very sorry for disturbing you. For that, Dobby threw himself down some stairs before coming here." the servant was twisting his hands into his pillowcase uniform. Darting his eyes back and forth, shifting from foot to foot. 

"What?" Draco was rubbing his eyes, blinking them awake. "Why did you wake me up?" Dobby seemed to realize his mistake and began to look panicked.

"N-no reason! Dobby will go now! Bad Dobby!" the house-elf's high voice brought Draco out of sleepiness.

"Dobby, stop." the servant stopped an inch away from the floor, ready to hit himself.

"Yes, Master Draco?" he squeaked.

“What happened?” 

“Dobby has heard of terrible things, he has.” 

“Like what?” 

“Dobby doesn’t want to trouble Master Draco.”

“Then _why_ wake me up?” said Draco, exasperated. 

“Dobby needs to ask a question. Would you say that Master Draco is friends with Harry Potter?”

“Er… yes. Why?” 

“You would feel sad if anything happened to Harry Potter?” 

“What…” Draco rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Dobby, what’s this about?” 

“Dobby just needs an answer. For Master Draco’s own good.” 

"Well, I suppose yes. He has... helped with a few things." Draco tried thinking about first year, but sleep was pulling him back in. He yawned. “Can I go back to sleep?”

"Yes! Dobby interrupted Master Draco's sleep far too long! What a terrible house-elf Dobby is!" the house-elf grabbed the edges of his nightstand and prepared to smash his head in it. "Bad Dobb—"

"Dobby, stop! Enough. Do that somewhere else and leave me to sleep." It was getting harder and harder to keep talking. He wanted to go back to the nameless warm body he was dreaming about.

"Of course. Goodnight, Master Draco." with a crack, the blonde let his body fall back onto the bed, not bothering pulling the sheets back over him. When he fell back asleep, it was dreamless. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School was way more time consuming than usual... also, I’ve now started to look after my newborn niece, Molly.


	13. Slow Moving Summer

The summer went by slow. As expected, he was given silent treatments by his father and when he wasn't, he would get hour long lectures on blood purity and how he must never "lose sight of it." Just one thing that was added is that Lucius would ask Draco to do small, yet annoying "favours."

_"Draco, do me a favour and get my papers from my office."_

_"Draco, do me a favour and tell the servants to get the dining room ready."_

_"Draco, do me a favour and get my cane from the dining room."_

He even called Draco out of his room to get a new ink bottle from a cabinet that was across the room Lucius himself was in.

Draco surprisedly got letters from Weasley and his Ravenclaw friends which were sort of a new experience but replied to each and every one of them (Even if it took him a good two whole days on Weasley's letters to not sound offensive). He didn't get anything from Harry and Draco couldn't stop himself from being the slightest bit disappointed. Something about the thought Harry writing to him made him feel... odd. _  
_

He even went out of his way and sent letters. But on the fourth try, he gave up. _If he wanted to speak to me, he would've responded._

Draco was bitter for a few days after that revelation.

 

Dobby was oddly missing from the manor. Usually, it was him that woke up Draco, but after that odd night, it was another house-elf that woke him most of the time. He would see him down the hallways after he came back from the manor library late at night, but when he tried approaching he got a shriek and a disappearing crack. _Did he do this the first time?_

Some nights were bad. Nightmares of seeing a giant snake hiss around the manor made him weary of coming out of his room, unwanted images of the Dark Lord both in the future and from the forest came together that made Draco get bags under his eyes the next morning.

The dread of second year hit him halfway through the summer. How could he forget what happened? The Chamber of Secrets was opened. Students getting petrified... professors breathing down everyone's necks. The first time around was awful enough, now he must endure it again and closer to Gryffindors that surrounded the whole thing? _Great planning ahead, Malfoy. Absolutely brilliant._

 

* * *

  

Draco was already awake when the house-elf appeared in his room, but he didn't open his eyes yet. He just got into a comfortable position only a few hours ago.

"Master Draco? Dobby is here to tell you that you are going to Diagon Alley for school supplies." Draco shot up to see it was indeed Dobby who was holding the breakfast tray up to him.

"Where have you been?" He scratched his hair into a more chaotic mess. "Seems you've been missing around the manor all summer." Draco all but yawned the words. Bat-like ears folded in on themselves.

"D—D—Dobby is just doing some extra helping out, Master Draco sir! Helping out Master Draco! Keeping Master Draco safe!" the tray in the house-elf's hands began shaking.

"What you mean by that?" Draco picked a scone off the trembling platter, waiting for him to crack under pressure.

"Dobby needs to smash the oven door on his hands now!" The house-elf slammed the tray on his bedside table and the familiar crack went reached Draco's ears.

_What is he up to?_

 

* * *

  

 _Fuck. Forgot about this place._ Draco and Lucius were in Knockturn Alley. At first, Draco would've boasted that he was allowed in the shadiest part of Wizard London, now, he knew that everything down here should not be treated like an honour and more like a sickening secret.

He followed his father to a black, rusting door and a tinkling of a bell made it known that they were in a shop. "Touch nothing, Draco," Lucius said as he rung the bell at the counter.

"I wasn't planning to such a thing." He sighed, feeling uncomfortable at the glass eyes that seem to be staring at him.

"After this, we can get you a present." His eyebrow twitched in confusion. _I haven't even complained_ once.

"No, that's not necessary, Father. I have nothing I want. I would rather focus on... perfecting my magic." Lucius's eyes regarded him oddly. Draco couldn't blame him, he would also look at himself mad if his actual twelve-year-old self said he didn't want a gift. "To become stronger as a wizard." He added. Lucius opened his mouth to speak, but thankfully, Mr. Borgin stopped him.

Draco tried to pay no attention to his father and the shop owner talking about selling Dark Magic objects from the manor so they would seem clean or how the discriminated against Arthur Weasley. He found himself in front of a decaying hand on a cushion. He remembered this... the Hand of Glory... he recalled asking his father if he could get this, only to be reminded that Granger had beat him for top grades  that first year.

But this time was so... different. The word different cannot cover it. It was Draco that got the top marks and he would rather have a dying rat then have a thing as a "Hand of Glory."  _Who even are you now, Malfoy?_  He instead pushed his bangs out of his eyes as he saw a cabinet. He never knew if there was anything in that cabinet. He reached up to the handle and—

"Done. Come Draco—" he let his hand fall back to his side. _Probably nothing in there anyway._

 

* * *

 

"Draco, do me a favour and give this to the Weasley girl next time you see her." _Favours? Now?_ If that wasn't odd enough, why was he asking him to give something to a Weasley? They just stepped out of Konckturn Alley when Lucius pushed a leather-bound book towards him. He didn't remember getting this the first time...

“What for?” 

“It belongs to her muggle-loving father. Just give it to the Weasley girl. Understood?” 

“Y-yes.” 

"I hear the line at Flourish and Blotts is madness, so I'm going to do some more private runs and we'll meet there."

"Yes, Father." _I don't know what's going on..._

"Good boy." Lucius patted his shoulder and walked off the other direction. He huffed and look at the object in his hands.

It was a simple, black journal. Draco flipped through to see it was empty but it looked old by the yellow pages. _Why did he have this with him? This doesn’t look like something a Weasley would own. How will I even_ give _it to her?_  He knew Granger and he hasn't seen the Weasley girl since the train platform. Both Draco didn't want to help either in any sense. He looked back down at the journal. Maybe this is something he could use. _Even if it was a Weasley_ _’s, I don’t think they would miss a journal they haven’t even written in._ Last year was a complete mess, he barely kept up with moments when something was going to happen. His flashbacks weren't going to around forever. He needed to write all them down. Give Dumbledore everything in writing.

"Draco!" He spun around at the sound of his name to see Harry grinning at him. The journal was pushed into the small of his back to hide it from Harry.

“Harry," black soot was all over his face and cloak. "what happened to you?"

"Floo Powder. I wasn't speaking clearly." Harry shifted from foot to foot, trying to flatten his hair and rub off the soot, seeming embarrassed.

"Your glasses are broken." The broken lens obscured the view of Harry's eyes.

"Oh, yeah. I’ll have to fix them." 

"I would fix them, but we're not allowed to use magic."

"Oh, er, right. So, where are you going?"

"Flourish and Blotts. Needs all these 'Lockhart' books." His fingers were getting tired of holding the journal too tight.

"Oh, so am I—"

"Harry! Draco! Over here!" They both turned to see Granger running up to them. _And it begins again._

"Oh it's wonderful to see you two again—are either of you coming in Gringotts?"

"As soon as I find the Weasleys," Harry said.

"Yeh won't have long ter wait." Draco jumped. He didn’t even see Hagrid. _Wait, what did he say?_  Turning back he saw fiery red haired people sprinting towards them through the crowd.

_Merlin, give me strength._


	14. Lovegood

Draco made sure he picked an empty compartment. He dropped his truck in with a loud thump, not bothering to move it out of the aisle as he flung himself on the seat. Rubbing tired eyes, he pushed his blonde hair away to look at the compartment's ceiling. He was alone and he was confused by that. Usually was the time that Harry and Weasley found him, leading to a discussion over Quidditch while Harry tried to follow helplessly. He dug deep into his memories... they did something this year at the feast... and it involved a Howler somehow. A very loud Howler. It seemed so important back then now it was hard to even remember it happened. _This is the year they did that thing... they..._  His memory was failing him right now. That made a worry line on Draco's forehead. The journal was tucked away in his truck that was still left out. Making a mental note to start writing as soon as possible, he pushed himself up and shoved his truck up on the railing above him. As he sat back down he heard the door open at the same time.

"Excuse me, do you have room?" A soft, fluttery voice came from the door. Blonde hair falling all the way to her back, her black robes rumbled with messy colourful shirts sticking out and necklaces were taking the place of her tie.

 _Shit. It's the Looney._ He definitely remembered her. Wearing all of those bizarre clothes and never seemed to get in trouble for it. Seeing her wander around the castle humming to herself or her nose up in that bogus magazine her father worked for. He was amazed when he figured out that she was a Ravenclaw. _A Ravenclaw?_

The same house he was in now. _Fuck._

"Er, yeah." Draco turned to face the window as the door squeaked shut and Lovegood bounced on the seat across from him.

"Sorry if I'm bothering you, but everyone else kicked me out."

"No, no, it's fine really." _I'm going to be stuck with you, might as well get used to it._

"Is this your first year?" _What a terrible way to start a conversation, Looney._

"No, I'm a second year."

"Oh... you look like a first year." _What's that supposed to mean?_ "With you looking lonely and all. I'm Luna." _Me? Lonely?_  Annoyance flared up but he pushed it down the best he could.

"Draco. Usually, I have people I sit with, but they aren't here strangely." _Wonder if I can start finding Anthony and them..._

"Like the stars?"

"Something like that." He usually tuned out all the times his mother explained his name. A moment of silence went between them. The passing of the same green hills seemed so fascinating now.

" _Quibbler_?" She dug in her robes and pulled out the magazine.

"No, thanks." She just shrugged her shoulders and turned it upside down. And that was all that was said the entire ride. Until ten minutes later--

"You're nice. Usually, I'm being asked to leave now." She didn't look up but instead flipped to a new page.

"Er, no problem." That was the only response he could think of.

 

* * *

 

Draco left the compartment as quickly as he could without actually running. Lovegood had managed to make him uncomfortable the whole ride that he was afraid to even cough if that meant her eyes would go to him. Not even Granger appeared once which he hoped would keep Lovegood occupied. This was more uncomfortable than meeting the Weasleys that day in Diagon Alley. 

He stepped on the platform and he could hear Hagrid gathering up the first years as the other years went up to the castle to get into the carriages.

"Draco!" He relaxed when he heard Michael's voice and a hand clamping down on his shoulder. "Where were you? We looked around, but I guess not hard enough." Anthony and Terry surrounded him as well.  _Yeah, I figured._

"Somewhere," He tried to see through his blonde hair that came over his eyes as he tried to steer towards the gates.

"Well, it doesn't matter now, come on, we have to go over here." Anthony greeted and pulled them in a train until they reached a free carriage.

Draco thought he was looking into a dead carcass of a horse. The molting black skin was stretched over bones and seemed of nothing more. Wings squeaked when they twitched. It was hooked up to the carriage.

"What is that?" The creature huffed and shook its head.

"What's what?" Michael asked, stopping halfway of grabbing the door.

"That." Draco pointed to the thing hooked up on the reins.

"Air...?" Terry slowly said.

"Are you telling me you aren't seeing this!?"

“Draco, did you nap on the train? Is there still sleep in your eyes?” Anthony asked.

“No, there’s this creature right here,” Draco said, looking up and down at its body. 

“It’s nothing, mate. Just magic being magic.” 

“...Alright then.” Draco quickly jumped into the carriage after Michael. Unconsciously, he wrapped his arms around himself when he settled down. There was a very strong suspicion that it wasn't good to see the thing pulling him up to Hogwarts.

 

* * *

 

As expected, Potter was nowhere to be seen at the Gryffindor table, neither was Weasley. He saw Granger looking around the Gryffindor table, looking for the two as well. He knew that they wouldn't be there, but for a reason he couldn't explain, he was hoping they were all right and sitting at the annoyingly bright red table.

He forgot how long sorting took. Hearing name after name, it all became one giant word.

He only knew how far they went when a head of long blonde hair weaved through the crowd and up the steps. _Only halfway? It’s been forever!_

"Look, Draco, Anthony, you guys aren't alone."

"What are you on about now, Terry?"

"Only you two blondes I ever saw all last year. Didn't you notice that? Now, I think I see two."

"Two?" Draco saw Luna get polite clapping as she went to sit at the Ravenclaw table, far from where he was sitting.

"The girl that's now a Ravenclaw and a boy who went to Gryffindor." Draco could think of the face. _Was it Coven Creepy or something like that? Conner... Calvin?_  (He didn't really care so he stopped at there.)

As the last girl dashed over to the Hufflepuff table, Dumbledore rose from his seat. He held up his hands for complete silence.

"Another year of Hogwarts. Welcome, new students and those returning. Before the banquet starts, I'll like to say a few words for—"

_CRASH._

The crunching sound of metal of being dragged over a surface and distant screaming interrupted Dumbledore. Students rose up from the seats to see if they could see out the windows, Gryffindors getting the advantage since the sound came over on their side of the castle. Loud murmurings spread throughout the Great Hall. Draco looked at the professors to see Snape already leaving, his black robes billowing out of the hall. The first years that were sitting at their new houses nervously, wondering of this was part of the feast.

"What was that?" Michael whispered near his ear, not wanting to sound loud to the hushed tones in the Hall. He didn't answer as Dumbledore raised his hands and everyone fell silent.

"It seems, the last two students have arrived. They missed the train and had to go another way. Please excuse the disturbance.“ Dumbledore turned to the professors shifting in their seats. "Well, we'll just wait for Severus to get back. In the meantime, dig in!" Food materialised in front of them.

"Professor Dumbledore, what was that? You can't consider eating now!" Flitwick squeaked.

"I'm sure it's nothing."

A few minutes of nibbling and Snape returned. Anger was clear on his eyes despite his expression not changing.

"Mister Potter and Mister Weasley are finally here. They drove here from a flying muggle car. I saw it on the Daily Prophet as breaking news. I thought it was just a hoax," Snape seemed to say the last part to himself. Whispers broke out at the mention of “Potter."

"Minerva, go fetch Mister Potter and Mister Weasley with Severus. This seems to deal with your students." Dumbledore spoke calmly. McGonagall nodded and followed Snape out of the hall. "Now that excitement is over, let me go over the rules for the first years." They reluctantly took their attention back to the Headmaster.

 

* * *

 

When Penelope was leading everyone to Ravenclaw tower, Lovegood held back until she was trailing after Draco. He couldn't do anything about it since he was caught in Terry's story about this summer he swore a vampire was hiding in his house.

When everyone was thinking about the question the eagle asked at the top of the stairs ("There is a house. One enters it blind and comes out seeing. What is it?"), he finally turned to her as his friends were thinking.

"What?" he said under his breath. It was too early in the year to be seen with Lovegood.

"Did Dumbledore mean Harry Potter?" Lovegood asked him. 

"Yeah, so?"

"Do you think he'll do an interview for _The Quibbler_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> riddle answer: 
> 
>  
> 
> a school :))))


	15. Tom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So very sorry about the long break, school has been very demanding and it’s very tedious to keep up grades. (especially for a student like me haaa) 
> 
> …so enjoy! Tell me what you think of the chapter and corrections are always welcomed! (especially if i kept seeing dots move across the screen as i wrote this around some hour late at night)

“So what are you thinking about this Lockhart guy?” Terry asked as he checked over his timetable. “Think he’ll be any good?”

“I don’t know. With the amount of books we got for him, I expect him to have some skill. I want to _learn_ something this year.” Anthony said.

“Learning from Lockhart? Ha, good luck,” Draco muttered into his goblet.

“Huh? Have you seen him teach before?” Draco briefly chewed the inside of his cheek. _I need to stop_ _. I’m running out of excuses._

“Er, no, but by looking at him,” Draco could see him wearing a tacky, turquoise hat. “I don’t think we’ll be learning anything but his daily morning routine.” Draco reached down by his feet to pull out the journal (he was still calling it a journal even though Terry kept repeatedly saying that it was—in fact—a diary). Draco thought it was high time he started writing in it before any time was lost.

He was leaning down again for a quill when there was a loud, roaring sound that made Draco lose grip of the journal and it fumbled in his hands until it smacked on the floor. “What was that?!” Michael asked on the floor (as he fell out of his seat by the noise).

“ _—STEALING A CAR, I WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY’D EXPELLED YOU,_ ” The voice of Molly Weasley rattled Draco’s plate. She sounded beyond angry and it gave him shivers. Draco quickly grabbed his journal from the floor and leaned to the side to look around Terry to see Weasley’s forehead sticking out from the table as a red Howler was floating in front of him.  _Right_ _… that’s what happened…_

“ _—YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED_ _—_ ” Draco’s eyes went immediately to the boy next to Weasley. Harry’s eyes found his and they stared silently. They continued staring until Molly Weasley’s voice reached a higher note, Draco winced and Harry went pink and made himself smaller, looking pointedly at his porridge.

After a minute or two of yelling, the rattling stopped. Draco couldn’t hear momentarily, but then slowly could hear people laughing as talk started up once more. “Man, that Gryffindor got it good. Don’t you know them, Draco?” Anthony asked.

“Sadly. A friend of Harry’s.” Draco looked at his timetable. “We have Transfiguration with the Slytherins. Let’s go.” He stuffed the journal back into his satchel and got up to leave, the three Ravenclaws stood up as well.

 

* * *

 

“What’s up with Crabbe and Goyle? I swear if they’re thinking of following us again this year they have another thing comin’.” Terry muttered as they left the classroom, pockets bulging with black buttons they transfigured that lesson. 

“Following us?” 

“All last year, I could see them in the corner of my eye every time I was walking around. Right down creepy. Thought the gits would jump me or one of the guys.” Draco decided to turn around to see Crabbe and Goyle a few paces away, stopping when they were spotted by Draco. 

“What are they—I’ll handle this, tell the others I’ll be there in a minute.” He left a confused Terry and gave Crabbe and Goyle a vague nod of his head to follow him. 

As soon as they were out of ear-shot of any passing students, Draco turned around, having to look up to see the beady eyes of the Slytherins. 

“What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?” Draco hiked his bag on his shoulder in annoyance. “Following me and my friends around?”  _Wow_ _… I’m really quick to say that word_ _… friends._

“What are _you_ doing? Draco, we’re just wondering what happened last year. You were acting…” Crabbe stopped as if he forgot what word he was going to use.

“Funny.” Goyle tried. 

“Yeah, funny.” Crabbe nodded like it was the word he lost. “You’re acting differently. Never did I even see you look at us last year. We just want to know if you’re cutting ties with Slytherin. We need someone to follow and we were told it was going to be you.”  _Who told you?_

Draco’s eyes went to the floor. It’s really not a shock that he would be confronted by Crabbe and Goyle. He was actually surprised that they didn’t catch him sooner. But he was a Ravenclaw now. And _happy_ about it. He wasn’t going to get rid of it for the sake of the meatheads in front of him. With a deep breath, he said something that he wouldn’t even consider in his old life. 

“I’m not associating myself with any Slytherins since I see it pointless for me to even try. This will be the last time either of us talks to one another. It’s time you find someone new to hold your leashes.” there was a faint tolling of the bell. “I need some air.” Draco quickly left and stared heading towards the courtyard. 

 

* * *

 

Draco rushed out to see Harry and Ron standing awkwardly at the bottom of the steps by Granger. “Harry! Wea—Ron!” They turned around and beamed as he rushed down to meet them. 

“Draco! Thought we wouldn’t catch you today! We have so much to tell you!” Weasley said and Harry stood up straighter as if to add more height to himself.  

“What happened? What was with that Howler this morning?” Weasley went as red as his flaming hair. 

“Me and Harry missed the train… The platform wouldn’t let us through for some reason.” _I never heard the platform do_ _that before._  “We used my dad’s flying car and drove ourselves here… We sort of… crashed into the Whomping Willow…”  _Ah, so that was it. Guess I must look concerned now._ _  
_

“Into the Whomping Willow! Are you two alright?” Unconsciously, he put a hand on Harry’s arm. 

“We’re both fine!” Harry said a little too loudly. “I mean—we weren’t hurt,” he said in a lower voice, looking from side to side. 

“Tell that to the car _and_ my wand!” Weasley pulled out his wand from his pocket and Draco saw it was barely hanging together by a few splinters.  _  
_

“Wait, who’s that?” Weasely said, looking off to the side. Draco turned to see a small Gryffindor staring intensely at them, clutching a Muggle camera close to his chest.  _Coven._

“Um, hello?” Weasley started. “Harry, do you know who that is?”  

“He’s no one—“ Harry started to say but the boy, who introduced himself as Colin Creevey, ( _I was close enough,_ Draco thought) stepped closer and forwardly asked if he could have a picture. _Pushy._  Creevey started telling Harry’s entire life story and Draco felt like the Weasley girl was going to have competition in the “Who’s More Obsessed With Harry Potter.” 

“Could you even sign it?” Creevey asked.  _All right, this is too much for me._

“You know, this sounds like my cue to leave, I’m going to see if I can sneak in a few minutes of lunch. Bye, Harry.” 

“No, Draco—“ but he saw a turquoise-clad teacher sweeping down the steps so Draco pretended he didn’t hear him.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, as Anthony was stifling yawns on his way to the dormitory, Draco pulled himself closer to the table that was set near the windows and crinkled the journal open. He was finally alone, free of any distractions as everyone else went to bed.  _Give Dumbledore everything in writing._ Opening an ink bottle and dipping a new quill inside, Draco began to write. 

“I might not look like it and I don’t expect you to believe me, professor, but what I say is true. I know much more than I am supposed to. I know things are going to happen, but they are not happening correctly.” He caught himself. _Say what you are first,_ _Malfoy._  “I’m… from the future—“ Draco almost ripped out the page. It sounded even stupider in writing.  _He_ _’s never going to believe you._ You  _sometimes don’t_ _believe it._ Draco looked as his words and frowned at them. Then his brow furrowed. His writing was disappearing and another person's writing was being written. 

“ _The_ _future you say?”_ Neat, curly handwriting appeared over his vanishing spidery writing. He scrapped his chair in an attempt to put distance between them.  _What_ _’s it doing?_ He picked up the quill again. 

“Excuse me?” he wrote. The same thing, it melted away and new handwriting took its place. 

“ _You said you were from the future not two minutes ago. Were you lying? I_ _’m not a fan of liars.”_ An odd lump was in his throat. Was it really responding to him? Draco wrote again. 

“Who are you? _What_  are you?” 

_“I’m the diary! I’m Tom, and who are you, Strange Time Traveler?” Okay, it_ _’s messing with me._

”So it just so happens that a diary has a living mind inside it? Named Tom?” 

“ _Are you not magic? Do you not see the name on the front page?_ _”_ Draco flipped a few pages back to see there  _was_ a name there; T. M. Riddle. 

“Oh…” he said out loud and more writing appeared.

“ _Are you not magic?_ _”_

”No, no! Merlin, no.” Dracowouldn’t know what to do with himself if magic was taken away from him.  _  
_

“ _Good._ _So about that future thing?_ _”_

“Wait. You saw all of that?” It was a stupid question with an obvious answer but he needed to know. He needed to see if this was actually happening. 

 “ _Yes_ _… Do you not want me to?”_ His quill hovered for a moment before touching the paper. 

”No. I rather you don’t.” 

_”But who will help you then?”_

”I already have someone in mind. It’s the whole point I was even writing.” 

“ _Dear Time Traveler, can you really trust them? What would they do?_ _”_ he stopped. What would Dumbledore do? Would he even do something? 

“I don’t know…” 

 _“_ _See, Time_ _Traveler?”_ Draco felt him blush at the newfound nickname Tom created (and seem to take a liking to). “ _You can trust me, unlike a human! I won_ _’t be able to do anything, but imagine telling someone a secret and keeping it a secret? Doesn’t that take some of the burdens away from you?”  
_

“I can… talk to you about all these… things?” Draco’s writing was slow, his thoughts all jumbled that he couldn’t tell what to put on paper or what to keep for himself. 

“ _I_ _’m a diary, Draco! It’s what I’m meant for! This is probably—no,_  is _—the safest place where you can ever trust with your deepest secrets. You do trust me, right Draco?”_

There was a moment hesitation before he gave Tom a response. 

“Yeah, I guess I do.” 

“ _Wonderful! I_ _’m very glad.”_ Tom’s handwriting was loopy and big as if he really _was_ glad that Draco agreed. Draco managed to smile. 

“You don’t understand how much this will help me, Tom. Thank you so much.” 

_”It’s nothing. Now, let’s back up slightly. Would you mind start telling me from the beginning?”_

”Not at all.” he wrote and as the words disappeared, he dipped his quill in ink for the major writing to follow. 

 The next few nights were the same way. 

 

* * *

 

Draco just finished wrapping up the story about Voldemort having meetings in his house when a sliver of sunlight appeared on his hand. Draco stretched his neck to squint at the dark blue curtains. Pulling them back, he hissed at the sudden brightness that took over his eyes.  _Is it morning?_ His whole body felt stiff from being in a chair all night.  _What_ _’s today?_ His mind quickly supplied an answer; Saturday.  _  
_

He remembered telling Anthony he’ll be up to bed in a moment a few minutes ago. At least, it seemed like a few minutes ago. The hours always seem to breeze past talking to Tom. He smiled as his words sunk into the page. Draco felt so refreshed talking to Tom. As if weight was being taken off his shoulders. He couldn’t believe the stroke of luck that happened to him. 

“Tom, I’ve just realised it’s morning. I need to find some sleep… somehow.” 

“ _No worries, dear Time Traveler. It_ _’s not like I’m going anywhere. You can continue the story another time.”_ Writing back a goodbye, he shut the diary (now calling it that because Tom said to) and stretched in his seat. 

Looking back outside to the green school grounds, he looked over and saw streaks of red around the Quidditch field.  _Are they_ _practising?_ Draco’s eyes skimmed the skyline.  _This_ _early on a Saturday?_

He did a double take when a moving group of green robes marched their way to the field. 

_That’s not good._

 

* * *

 

The Gryffindor captain, Oliver Wood, was already there and spitting about how he “booked the field” when he finally arrived. _Like that would stop a Slytherin._

“Draco? Where did you come from?” Harry asked, seeming to forget about Flint and the whole rest of the Slytherin team interfering their practice. 

“Why are _they_ here? You’re not supposed to be here.” Draco pointed the question to Flint, ignoring Harry.  _I_ _’m not on the team anymore, so what’s going on?_

“I don’t see how it’s your business, Malfoy. As a Slytherin _traitor_ doesn’t need to know what we do. Go in your corner and read your stupid books like a good Ravenclaw.”  _Me? A_ traitor? 

“Leave him alone,” Harry said forcefully and Flint chuckled. 

“Oh, I see how it is.” Flint’s eyes flicked towards Draco before going back onto Harry. “Well, if you _must_ know. We’re here to train our new seeker.” Everything went silent. 

Draco felt sick as another boy pushed his way through the Slytherins. He’d never seen the boy anywhere before. Never. The boy had spiky, black hair with a pale, pinched face and huge teeth that made him look like a sick weasel.  _Who was he?_

One of the Weasley twins voiced his own question. 

“This here is Fletcher Nil, and his father was so nice as to give the whole team gifts.” They held out their new _Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones_ and Draco felt punched in the gut. That should be him. And it wasn’t. _So_ _how can this be_ _…_

He could barely hear Weasley and Granger’s voices as they came up to the scene. He could barely hear  _Flecter_ _’s_ jab about Granger being a Mudblood. He saw green light and Weasley double over next to him gagging up slugs, but he could barely acknowledge it. 

Once more, something happened without his doing and he felt so… replaceable. Not needed _._  It didn’t even matter if was a Ravenclaw, Slytherin, things kept happening around him without his doing. He was useless and unnecessarily taking up space… “Draco—help me with Ron.” Numbly, he let Weasley wrap his arm around Draco’s neck. He didn’t care about the overbearing weight that was on his shoulder as Harry pulled them off the field. He was taking them further down the grounds—to the gamekeeper’s house—but he couldn’t shake the question out of his racing thoughts: 

 Was he really so… expendable? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im uncreative so i made a male oc... let's keep him out of family photos and never talk about him.


	16. Halloween Night

“I thought there was no one left in the world who hasn’t read my book! Every day is something new! Worry no more, I’ll sign one and send it over right away. Good-bye!” Draco’s ears picked up on Lockhart’s voice, but that didn’t shake the image of _Fletcher_ out of his head as they walked up to the gamekeeper's hut. 

Granger held open the door as Draco and Harry dragged Ron into the small room, the warm fire making Draco shiver even more. _You’re not supposed to be here._ His nails dug into the palm of his hand as he dropped Ron onto a chair and quickly made over to the seat next to Harry.

They were talking, the angry clattering of teapots and cups as Hagrid talked about how he finally noticed Lockhart’s enlarged ego. _Enlarged ego? Hah, been there before._ They were all comforting Granger and defending her as Draco stayed silent. It was the second time this has happened, no, was it the third? He couldn’t remember anymore. It was still so… _creepy_ … why did things need to happen? They all seem so pointless, but still they were finding ways to sneak back in. What was their purpose?

“Actually, Draco has the highest grade—Draco?” Granger stopped talking and saw that he was looking down, seeming lost in thought.

“Hey, Draco, you all right, mate?” Weasley managed to ask before a slug dripped out of his mouth. Draco’s eyes focused and went to the steaming cup of tea in front of him.

“Hm?”

“Yer a’right there, Draco? Yer very quiet,” Hagrid asked.

“Dear Merlin! How rude of us! They talked about him as well, Hagrid,” Granger said. “About being a Slytherin traitor, gosh, Draco, I’m sorry.”

“Now’s why’s that?!” Hagrid was outraged once more. Draco just shrugged noncommittally.

“It’s fine. It was nothing.” He stood up. “Thank you for the tea.”

“Why are yeh thanking me? Didn’t drink a thing. Didn’t even touch it.”

“I’m not thirsty. I’ll be going now. I really don’t feel good. Maybe I need to lie down. Bye, guys.” There was a chorus of concerned ‘bye’s (an added slug by Weasley) and Draco closed the door behind him, giving himself a moment to sort out his mess of thoughts before walking towards Hogwarts. He was halfway up the steps of the entrance hall when someone shouted his name.

“Draco!” He turned around and saw someone bound over to him.

“Harry, what are you doing?“ _Go away. Now._

"Don’t let what Flint said get to you. You’re not a traitor or anything like that. Don’t know how you can be anyhow,“ Harry huffed, seeming like he ran there from Hagrid’s hut. Angry jibes that were being made in his head disappeared.

“Huh? Right… Yeah.” Draco wrapped a hand around his left wrist, reminding himself he wasn’t a traitor. _Yet._ “I know.”

“No, Draco. Listen. You’re amazing, I’ve never seen a wizard like you before.”

“You’ve barely seen me do magic before, Harry,” he deadpanned.

“I know, but it’s like… I already know, if that makes since. Just by looking at you I know… I’m saying the honest truth. You’re… perfect.” Harry seemed to realise what he said and added, “A-As in you have wonderful magic and grades!” Draco couldn’t help his eyebrow raising in confusion. _Am I supposed to think that meant something different?_

“Thanks… I guess…” _Is this a terrible way of making me feel better?_

“No! I mean—what I meant to say—“ Harry took a deep breath. “What I meant to say is…” Draco could practically _hear_ Harry thinking too loud. “Draco I—“

“Mister Potter.” Professor McGonagall seemed to appear from thin air. Harry jumped and almost tripped down the steps.

“Professor,” Draco greeted.

“Mister Malfoy,” McGonagall acknowledged him, before gazing at Harry, confused.

“Professor,” Harry regained composure.

“Where’s Mister Weasley?”

“At Hagrid’s. Why?”

“Well, tell him to find me before this evening to know how he's going to spend his detention this evening.”

“Of course, professor.” Harry frowned as if he just remembered that he had detention.

“As for you, you’ll be helping Lockhart answer fan mail.” Draco had to thin his lips to keep a laugh inside. _That’s worst than spending time in the Forbidden Forest._

And Harry seemed to agree.

“No, er—Professor, can’t I do something else?”

“Professor Lockhart asked for you particularly. Eight o’clock. Don’t forget to send Weasley to me.”

“Yes, professor,” Harry grumbled. McGonagall nodded and went up the stairs and out of sight.

“Fame is a fickle thing, isn’t it?” Draco said, not helping the smile that came across his face. Harry looked at him for a moment, before turning his head away climbing the rest of the stairs in a flourish.

“Shut it.”

 

* * *

 

Draco slowly blinked his eyes open. His eyes found his notes for all his classes strewn all over a common room table. Tom’s diary was open in front of him. _When did I fall asleep?_ Wasn’t he doing homework a second ago? Draco saw the window and saw the orange-rusted sky that showed the day coming to an end. _How long was I out?_ He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tried to remember what he was dreaming about. _Was I even dreaming about anything?_ Draco just shook the feeling away and pulled Tom’s diary closer to himself.

“Tom? Can I ask something?” Draco wrote, waiting patiently for the words to fade.

 _"Yes, Draco? What's wrong?”_ Tom’s response appeared after a moment.

"Have you ever felt... like you weren't needed? Or felt out of place?“ Draco knew he should be feeling embarrassed for even considering sharing his feelings like some wimpy first year, but he didn’t feel like Tom would hold it against him. Tom was his friend. He trusted Tom with his biggest secrets. He was the only one that could be trusted with his secrets.

_"In what way?"_

“This morning, something happened from my original timeline, but it wasn’t me that caused it. It was as if the universe suddenly made up someone out of thin air… and they took my spot. Am I not needed anymore?“

 _“No, Draco. You never were. I can’t completely understand how you feel right now. I never had that happen to me. This must be hard for you, especially at this age. Listen, my dear Time Traveler, I was in your shoes, in a way. No one understood who I was, what I felt or how I thought. No one could understand what was going on in my head. It was me against the entire world. Just like you. It was hard, I know so, but, Draco, listen very closely. That’s why you have_ me. _So it won’t be just you… it will be you_ and _me_ _against the world. Just never try to hide anything from me. How does that sound?"_ Draco heaved a relieved sigh and picked up his quill.

“That sounds wonderful.”

 

* * *

 

“Here you are, Draco.” Terry placed something by Draco’s goblet on a damp morning in the first days of October. Draco looked up from the book he was reading and reached up to grab the bottle and see what it was.

“A Pepperup Potion? I don’t need this.” Draco pushed the bottle towards Terry’s plate.

“Yes, you do.” Terry pushed it right back. "You’re even paler than usual. You’re getting bags under your eyes. Colds are going around and I don’t need someone in the dormitories having it.” Terry made a face. 

“All right, all right. See? Look, I’m doing it,” Draco muttered as he opened the potion bottle and downed it one gulp. The blond suddenly felt a rush of warmth spread throughout his body as the potion settled in his stomach; it felt like he had swallowed fire, though the heat wasn't unpleasant. He uttered a breathless gasp as white smoke began pouring from his ears. He hastily grabbed for his goblet and starting downing his pumpkin juice in an attempt to quell the affects of the potion. He gave a relieved sigh when the smoke finally stopped.

  
” _The Magic Behind Time? Time Travel Advances for Wizards: Volume 3_? Draco, what’s all this?” Anthony was looking at the top books of Draco’s giant pile on the breakfast table as Terry moved his bag off of the bench so he could sit there.

“Er… hi, Anthony,” he coughed, putting his empty goblet on the table. ”It’s research.”

“Research?”

“Yeah.”

“For what?”

“… Arithmancy…”

“Arithmancy? That’s a subject? Draco, we don’t take that. Even if we did, it’s not till, like, what, third year? Besides, how does 'time travel' deal with Arithmancy?”

“Er… time travel deals with the future?” _You’re losing your edge, Malfoy._

“Okay, what’s up with you?” Anthony said, putting down his fork, forgetting his scrambled eggs.

“What?”

“You’ve been acting strange since the beginning of this year. I find you sleeping at the common room’s tables more than your actual bed. And when you are in bed, you're writing in that stupid ‘journal’ of yours—yes, I’ve noticed. Light sleeper remember?—And every day I see you get paler. Mate, you’re just straight up not yourself.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I’m starting to hate that same answer, Draco.”

“Then stop asking the same question,” he snapped, getting a shocked look from his three friends as he stood up, gathering the books in his arms. “I’ll talk to you later.” Then he left the Great Hall.

 

* * *

 

As the month progressed, Draco spoke more and more to Tom, pretending to take notes in all his classes, seeing as Anthony was catching on so he could no longer do it in Ravenclaw Tower. Draco also started to learn about Tom more in depth, learning secrets that Tom had never uttered to anyone. The days seem to blur together. Before he knew it, it was Halloween.

“Draco, we’re heading out to the Halloween feast. Are you coming?” Anthony was fiddling with his hair, Terry and Michael already at the dormitory door, ready to leave.

 “No… I actually don’t feel well…” Draco felt light-headed and his stomach was unsettled as if nothing would stay down if he tried to eat something. "I might catch up later, but I don’t know. Sneak some candy for me?”

“Will do.” Then they were gone.

Draco blew his bangs out of his eyes and hoped that sleeping would help before pulling his blue sheets to his chin and closing his eyes.

 _It was cold, despite the layers of school robes Draco had on. There was someone whispering. Whispering to him right into his ear telling him_ something _but he couldn’t hear it properly. But he still listened. All his eyes saw was black, but he could feel his feet moving as if they knew where they were going. They echoed over the whispering. Suddenly, he stopped._

_Someone wrapped a hand around his wrist and another hand gripped his shoulder. Draco did nothing as the hand at his wrist used its fingers to guide his hand to a rough surface. It gently moved his fingers, lifting on and off the surface, the hand on his shoulder moving him from side to side. Draco still did nothing. He didn’t feel afraid. He felt… comfortable, as if the hands at his shoulder and wrist were…_

_Familiar._

Gray eyes blinked heavily as a blurry, empty, torch-lit corridor came into view. There was a crick in the back of his neck, and his feet ached. _How did I get here?_ Draco rubbed his eyes and woke up at the touch of something cold and wet on his fingers. He pulled his hand back to see it covered with red. _What is this?_ Draco looked down at his robes to see the entire front covered as well. _What is all of this? It can’t be… blood? Can it? It’s just paint… for something._ He checked his other hand and saw it was free of any kind of red, but he saw something on his cuff that made his breath get caught in his throat.

Cat hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration I got for Draco’s writing on the wall is a fanart of Ginny writing on the wall by Tom as seen [here](http://atalienart.tumblr.com/image/132431737297)  
>    
> HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL. WHEW.


	17. Valentine's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably the longest chapter i’ve written so far... wow pat myself on the back. ~~this took a lot of tears by the way~~
> 
> but i have a surprise for everyone! 
> 
> in honor of this story’s (insanely surprising) success… the next chapter will be completely in…
> 
>  
> 
> HARRY’S POV :D

Mrs. Norris instantly appeared in Draco's mind. Memories long forgotten were soon remembered.  
  
_Halloween night... a message written in blood... rumours about a student being the heir of Slytherin and attacking muggle-borns... rumours about Harry Potter…_  
  
But did Draco... attack Mrs. Norris?  
  
No, no, no. It was stupid. He couldn’t have done it. He was sleeping, in his stupidly blue bed in a stupidly blue Ravenclaw dormitory. It was a fact that Draco wasn’t responsible for any attacks in his first life and he shouldn’t be— _isn’t_ —responsible for any now. Draco tried shaking his head, as if that would make him appear in Ravenclaw tower, but he stubbornly stayed in the deserted corridor.  
  
_What is happening?_  
  
He took a deep breath, repeating the phrase ' _It’s a dream, it’s a dream_ ' over and over. Not thinking, he put his hands on the stone floor and felt a cold _splat_. A shiver traveled all over his body. Draco stared down at his hand, his mind thinking of everything it could be but blood.  
  
_What is happening to me?_  
  
Draco drew his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, no longer caring about the stains his hand would most likely leave. He sat there, the faint sound of torch flames flickering made a shiver go down his back. He felt like he was there for hours. Draco tried reasoning with himself.  
  
_It’s a dream, it’s just a dream… what else could it be?_  
  
He huffed, sucked in a breath, straightened his back, and mentally slapped himself. _You are better than this, Malfoy. You are not responsible, so stop acting like it. You’re acting like a scared idiot. Two things that you can’t afford to be._ Shakily, he stood up, keeping his hand tucked in as he walked down the corridor, hoping he could find Ravenclaw’s staircase soon.

 

* * *

 

Draco eventually found the staircase and, after arguing with the eagle knocker, he climbed up to the empty dormitory. He cleaned his hand to the best of his ability in his confused state and crumpled his ruined robes in a bunch on the floor next to his trunk as pulled out a new shirt for himself.  
  
So it’s not a dream, yes, he’s established that now. _But how was I out of bed?_ Draco pulled his shirt on. _Maybe I should talk to Tom about it..._  
  
He heard the common room’s door creak open with sounds of loud talking and rushed footsteps and stuffed the robes hastily into his trunk and started buttoning the— _painstakingly small_ —buttons hurriedly. Draco barely got through the last row and under his covers before the door slammed open.  
  
"You would not _believe_ where we just came from!” Terry said as Michael closed the dormitory door.  
  
"The Halloween Feast?” Draco was still a little winded after rushing to change out of his shirt and slip back into bed. “Where is everyone?” He asked, as no one else came in with them.  
  
“They’re all in the common room talking about what happened.”  
  
"What happened?”  
  
"You know Mrs. Norris? Filch’s cat? Yeah, _Petrified_ and, get this, there was a message. Written in blood. Can you believe it?” Terry said, a noticeable ting of excitement in his voice.  
  
"Why are you excited about that?” Draco asked. Terry tried to defend himself when Michael rolled his eyes and interrupted him.  
  
"Potter and his group found her hanging on the torch bracket as we were coming back from the feast,” Michael said. Draco curled his lips inward.  
  
“Who said they 'found' her? As the professors left us, they were suspecting Potter's group of doing that to the cat,” Anthony said, falling into his bed across from Draco.  
  
“Please, I don’t think someone in our year can do that to a cat. I mean, we all hate Filch, but taking it out on his cat? That’s stupid. Besides, doesn’t that seem to go against the Gryffindor code or whatever they got?" Michael crossed his arms.  
  
"Yeah... they don’t seem the type.” Draco’s voice was so quiet that Terry, who was a few feet away, couldn’t hear him.  
  
“Mate, you’re deathly white. How are you feeling?" Terry asked.  
  
“Petrified? The cat was Petrified?” Draco looked down at his hands, his head was hurting all over again.  
  
"It’s probably nothing, you know? It's probably some sick prank by the Slytherins," Anthony said, non discreetly looking at Michael and Terry, who vigorously nodded.  
  
"Sure...” Draco did not believe them for a second.  
  
"Here." Anthony dug deep in his robe pocket, Terry and Michael doing the same after a moment. "We kept our promise and grabbed some candy on the way out." Handfuls of chocolate, caramel, and other wrapped candies made a pile on Draco's bed. “Might be slightly melted from being in our pockets, but it’s something, right?”  
  
Draco felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards. "Thanks."  
  
"Anything for you, mate." Terry jumped onto his bed, taking a candy out of his pile. He quickly unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth.  
  
And he spat it out on the floor. "Gross, peanuts. Hate peanuts."

 

* * *

  
  
The next week, all that was talked about was the attack, and Draco did everything in his power to ignore all of it until… he forgot why he was ignoring it in the first place.  
  
He remembered… at least Draco thought he remembered... that he was worried about something, but then after he talked to Tom, it seemed to just leave his head.  
  
_“Tom, have I been acting… off in any way? Or weird? Did I talk to you Halloween night?” He asked one morning following the attack._  
  
_"No, not that I’m aware of. You did speak about a cat.”  
  
"Did I say anything about it?”  
  
"Hm, no not really.” Draco looked at the words with confusion. He was so sure he did... “You should just forget about it, my dear Time Traveler. It was probably nothing.”  
  
“But... I feel like I’m—“ Draco didn't even finish his sentence before the words faded away, replaced by Tom's.  
  
“Draco. Trust me. Forget. About. It. You do trust me, right?” Something in Draco’s thoughts shifted and the nagging feeling he had was gone.  
  
"I do trust you, Tom. Completely.”  
_

 

* * *

 

Draco was in the library, looking up spells to help with oversleeping amongst the many other problems he has been finding about himself. That morning, Michael pointed out that Draco was “looking very pale”, and so he was looking for a spell that would fix that problem.  
  
The words on the paper seemed to make his eyes burn, so he rubbed them, letting his fingers rest at his temples as he continued reading. He almost slipped out of his seat when a hand slammed down on a passage about illusion charms.  
  
"Draco, we need your help.” A bossy, know-it-all voice was above him.  
  
"Help?” He asked Granger, looking up from his book to see Weasley and Harry behind her.  
  
"There’s a potion we’re making." Granger held out a moldy looking book and started turning its yellow pages. “The steps and ingredients are insanely complex and we—mostly I— wanted to ask for your help to make it. I’ve seen the grades you get in Potions. It’ll be easy for us if you helped.” She held out the book to him and Draco saw a long list of ingredients with ‘POLYJUICE POTION’ written in faded ink.

“Polyjuice Potion?” Draco repeated.  
  
"Made to look like someone else for a short period of time,” Granger explained.  
  
"Er, okay... Who are you going to turn into? Hold on, why do you need this?” Draco asked.  
  
"Some Slytherins. We have a feeling that they know who’s the heir and we’re going to sneak into their common room to find proof of who’s attacking people,“ Weasley said.  
  
“What?” _What are these idiots thinking?_ But Draco knew he shouldn’t be that surprised that the three were snooping around, but they were talking about sneaking into the _Slytherin_ Common Room. “What are you three thinking?”  
  
“We’ll explain more later. That is, if you’re in?” Granger said. Draco looked down at the potion list.  
  
“These steps... I’ve never seen anything like it... It’ll be difficult.”  
  
“So will you help us?” Harry asked, his voice hopeful. _Dammit, he had to use that tone. It sounds so…_  
  
”Will you?” Weasley asked with the same amount of feeling. Draco threw a hand in the air.  
  
"Of course.” _I’d be guilt tripped if I refused._  
  
"Brilliant! We’ll have this potion ready by next week!” Weasley exclaimed.  
  
“Wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Granger said and Weasley’s face dropped. “These ingredients are very rare.” She took the potion book back. “Plus, some need to be collected at a certain time. Like fluxweed needs to picked at the full moon and lacewings need to be stewed for twenty one days….”  
  
“She’s right, but...” Draco started while looking over her shoulder, doing a once over of the ingredients, “most are in Snape’s private storage.” Maybe it was a lack of focus and his aching headache that made him say, “I could probably get them for you.”  
  
"You can?” Granger asked. _Why did I say that?_  
  
“I’m his godson.” Draco ignored her buggy gape. “I’m sure some words would sway him.”  
  
“You’re amazing, Draco,” Harry said suddenly. Three pairs of eyes turned to him. “For doing this for us!” They all stared at him, Weasley with an unknown expression on his face.  
  
"Still, it’ll be...” Draco looked down the page, “a month before the ingredients will be ready.”  
  
"A _month_? The Heir could attack half the school by then!” Weasley said.  
  
"Relax. The attacks are not going to be that common.” That Draco remembers quite well.  
  
"How do _you_ know?” Weasley whispered since Madam Pince leaned back from her post to see past the bookshelves and give Weasley a disapproving glare.  
  
_Shit, think of something_! "The attacker has to be smart, right? Attacking when everyone was in one place and distracted, not to mention aware of them... they would be dumb as to attack so much, right? It’ll bring them attention. Spacing the attacks will the smartest way.” _Damn, I’m just making this up._  
  
“He’s exactly right, we have time.” Granger looked impressed then turned to Harry and Weasley. _Wow, they bought it_. “Until then, let’s just make this potion.” She looked back down to Draco. “Thanks for doing this with us.”  
  
"It’s not a problem...” He sighed and stood up, closing his book and rubbing his eyes.  
  
"Are you okay?” Harry asked.  
  
"Just tired. It’s fine. I’ll help. Until then, Harry.” Draco’s voice took a sharp edge.  
  
"Y-yes?” Harry stuttered.  
  
“Make sure you beat Slytherin on Saturday.”

 

* * *

 

"No, I’m giving Chang and Diggory three years before they get together.”  
  
"What? No way. You've seen her notes when you pass her in the Common Room, right? Doodles of badgers. _Badgers._ I’m giving it next—oh hey, Draco, Michael.” Anthony and Terry saw the two boys push their ways to the seats saved for them.  
  
"Hey, what were you talking about?” Draco said as he slumped into the seat.  
  
“Nothing,” Terry said, not explaining any further.  
  
"No, really, what were you two talking—“ He couldn’t be heard anymore when the teams stepped out onto the field.  
  
The players trailed after each captain (not surprising that Gryffindor got the louder cheers) and Draco’s shoulders tensed when he saw Fletcher Nil walk by, a large _Nimbus Two Thousand and One_ being held tightly in his hand.  
  
“I know, that pale weasel gives me the shivers too,” Terry shouted in his ear to be heard over the loud booing from the Ravenclaws around them.  
  
The game started smoothly enough, Draco automatically finding Harry higher than the other players, searching for the Snitch. He also saw a player in green up there with Harry. Nil was taunting Harry and Draco felt his stomach drop. Looking at it from the stands, Draco could painfully see that there was no reason for the taunting. Neither Nil nor Harry would get anything out of it. It’ll lead to no where, but… that could’ve been him… it _was_ him. It made him feel sick. Shame from all the immature threats and fights he had made his stomach heave.  
  
"What are the Beaters doing?" Michael shrieked beside him, violently pulling himself out of his wallowing. “They’re only paying attention to Potter! Play the game!“ He shouted at them.  
  
The Weasley twins were hovering all over Harry. One swung at the Bludger that was aiming for Harry’s head and threw it off its course. It looked fine to Draco until the Bludger turned right back around and tried to aim at Harry once more.  
  
“Something’s wrong with it!” Anthony shouted.  
  
"It turned right back around!” A nearby Ravenclaw shouted, only paying attention to Harry because of Michael’s shouts.  
  
"Those Slytherins tampered with it! Cheaters!” Michael shouted. He heard an update on the score and sarcastically added, “And they’re in the lead. Wonderful!” Then, drops of rain fell on his head. “And raining too! Good! Wondrous! ” Michael began clapping. Something that Draco learned that day: Michael took Quidditch _very_ seriously.  
  
Gryffindor called a time-out and Michael was left silently fuming as the rain built to a steady pour. _What’s wrong with that Bludger?_  
  
After the time-out, the twins left Harry on his own and Draco could see him zipping all over the field, trying to see the snitch through the rain. He was impressed, something that he had to acknowledge: Harry was actually a really good Quidditch player. After a dizzying amount of spins Harry dove down, but then the Bludger had a clear path straight to Harry’s arm.  
  
“Harry—!” Draco jumped out of his seat before stopping, shocked that those words came out of his mouth.  
  
But Harry, being the idiot that he was, took the dive again. _What in Merlin’s name does he think he’s doing?_ This time, he aimed after Nil, who was laughing at Harry the entire time but stopped when Harry was steering his broom directly at him. He saw Nil lean out of the way and Harry reached out with the good arm he had. He dove completely down until he rolled onto the soggy ground and stayed there. Draco’s feet instantly started moving down the row to get down to the field. An odd part of himself needed to know that Harry was okay. _Where did that come from?_  
  
The game was called to be over with Gryffindor being the winner. When Draco managed to get on the field, the Gryffindor players came down and started surrounding Harry. He could hear Lockhart's voice and Harry's weak protests. The gasps that happened up in front made it obvious that Lockhart did something idiotic.  
  
Draco fought over the large crowd and escaped and found them at Hospital Wing. Harry was already in a bed with two chairs pushed up to the bedside seating Granger and Weasley. Harry's entire arm seemed deflated.  
  
"So you can’t feel anything?” Draco asked once he too was at his side.  
  
"No,” Harry coughed. “I feel nothing. I can't feel anything."  
  
"I knew Lockhart had no brain, but this is impressive,” Ignoring Hermione's glare, Draco picked up Harry’s flimsily hand, “to mess up this badly.” He shook the arm lightly and weighed the boneless arm in his hand. “Can you feel this?” Harry shook his head, looking at his hand in Draco's with a pained expression.  
  
"No..."

 

* * *

 

 _The hissing was something that was familiar. The feeling of someone behind him, watching him, reaching back for him was becoming a normal thing. He felt out of his body. Like he was in another body, but that body was larger, older, stronger—  
_  
Draco woke up in a cold, dark corridor.  
  
He looked around to see he was alone, the torches were burning low and that he was in his pyjamas. Draco felt a strange sense of déjà vu, like he’d been in this situation before, but he couldn’t remember when or why. _Did this happen before?_ Still heavy with sleep, he decided to leave it till the morning and just get back to bed.  
  
Draco finished climbing the stairs when he heard quick footsteps echoing from the staircase above him. A flutter of black robes happened as the person turned down the hall onto the staircase Draco was on.  
  
The boy was small and blonde, still dressed in his school robes and stopped abruptly when spotted by Draco.  
  
"Oh, hi, uhm," Creevey stammered. “I know you. Sort of. You’re Harry's friend, right?"  
  
“What are you doing?” Draco asked, looking at Creevey’s bowl of grapes and his giant muggle camera hanging on thin, measly straps.  
  
“I—I was going to visit Harry in the Hospital—“  
  
“This late at night? Would he really be up right now?” He wanted to run his hand down his face.   
  
"Uh, I—I guess not...” Creevey’s ears turned pink. “But what about you? Why are you up?”  
  
“I sleepwalk. Problem?”  
  
"Wow, how's that like? Wait, that's rude. No, sorry. I’ll just..." Creevey stepped forward but wavered about going further with Draco in his pathway. “No... but maybe I should still...”  
  
"He’ll be out of the Hospital Wing soon, do you really want to wake him up from his recovery?”  
  
“No...”  
  
"Trust me, by tomorrow everything will be back to normal. That seem fine?”  
  
“Okay, yeah... I’ll go back... Good night, uh?”  
  
“Malfoy.”  
  
“Malfoy. Good night, Malfoy.”  
  
“Just get back to bed.”

 

* * *

  
This was not the way he wanted to start his morning. Cramped in a _girls’_ bathroom stall making a potion with Granger _and_ Weasley. No matter how many times Weasley tried to say that it was safe because Moaning Myrtle, the ghost that haunted a toilet in there, warded away any trespassers. Draco wanted to say Myrtle warded him away too. With winter breezes showing, the tiled bathroom had a chill to it as well.  
  
“Now stir it the other way,” Granger said and Draco almost grabbed the cauldron to throw it across the marble floor.  
  
“Okay.” He did what she said. After a few minutes of that, they prepared to add the knotgrass. Then there was a new voice at the stall.  
  
"Guys, it’s me.”  
  
After the initial shock of Harry already out of the Hospital Wing, he too squeezed in the stall, his entire side pushing against Draco’s.  
  
"Hi, Harry. How are you feeling?” Draco asked simply, adding the knotgrass, all without breaking his stirring.  
  
“What—uhm—it regrew. Everything’s better.”  
  
"I’m glad.” Draco’s subconscious was looking at him insanely, but he chose to ignore it.  
  
"So—er—uh… Dobby visited me last night,” Harry said.  
  
While Granger and Weasley’s eyes widen for one reason, Draco’s did so for a whole other reason.  
  
“Dobby?” Draco asked. _The house-elf?_  
  
"Right, I didn’t tell you about him. He’s this house-elf that watched over me during the summer. He’d be there all day and blocked all my letters.”  
  
“Stayed there all day?” Harry nodded. “A house-elf?” Another nod. “Named Dobby?”  
  
"And it turns out it was him that made me miss the train and enchanted that Bludger.”  
  
“What?!” Granger and Weasley shouted.

“His name was Dobby?” Draco asked again.  
  
"Yes, Dobby. _Jeez_ , mate,” Weasley said.  
  
_That’s where he was. That little—_  
  
”But he said that the Chamber of Secrets has opened before… or he didn’t tell me that.” Eyes shifted from person to person, absorbing the new information.   
  
"At least a person hasn’t been attacked yet, but we need to hurry with this potion,” Granger said, dumping in fluxweed.

 

* * *

  
“You need what?” Snape said, his frown deepening.  
  
“Bicorn horn and boomslang skin,” Draco said, evening his voice innocently.  
  
“What are you up to, Draco?”  
  
“Nothing! Nothing, sir.” An idea popped in his head and he ducked his head down, suddenly shifting from foot to foot. “I’m just working on a potion so it can take my mind off some things… a lot has been on my mind..." Snape scrutinised him.  
  
“Draco, is something bothering you?” Snape’s eyes burned the top of his head. "Don’t think I haven't noticed how you are almost silent in class. Not to mention that your skin has taken to a new shade of paleness. I’m still your godfather, even at Hogwarts."  
  
"I know, I know. Just… this potion will get my mind off a few things. Please?” Snape gave him a hard look before closing his eyes, inhaling deeply before answering.  
  
"Yes, of course, Draco. Let me get them for you.”  
  
When he returned to the bathroom with the ingredients in hand, they were all surprised.  
  
"How did you manage to do that? I know you’re his godson, but still…”  
  
“I… honestly don’t know either.”

 

* * *

  
This was the second time Draco woke up and found feathers stuck to his robe and (he thinks) the third time he found himself in a lone corridor. _This is really getting old..._ He didn't know if Hogwarts even had chickens! And he was missing class.  
  
"Great..." Pushing himself off the floor, he patted the feathers off and started walking,trying to find his way to Charms. Lost in frustration, he didn’t notice someone else was there until he walked into something large, knocking him to the floor. "Hello... Hagrid."  
  
Hagrid was covered in snow, his giant moleskin coat giving him a misshapen outline. A dead rooster was in his gloved hands.  
  
"What happened?" Draco paled.  
  
"Found it 'n the snow," Hagrid gruffed. "Seemed to be out there fer a while." He looked down at the dead rooster. "Second one I found. It’s either foxes or somethin’. I need to ask if I can charm the coop. Wait a minute!" Hagrid suddenly said. "Why aren't ye in class?"  
  
"I wasn't feeling well... I went to Hospital Wing."  
  
“Ye seem to be getting worse.” Hagrid put his free hand against his forehead and he almost fell backward.  
  
"I'm fine, Hagrid. Believe me.” Draco ducked down his head. Not letting Hagrid respond, he walked away to find Charms.  
  
He must’ve taken a wrong turn since he somehow ended up in an unfamiliar corridor. The torches were blown out, so it was dark. Draco was halfway down the hallway when he fumbled and tripped over an object. “What the—“ he turned down, only to have his heart freeze.  
  
A Hufflepuff student was looking up at the ceiling. His eyes were blank and he was rigid and cold. Draco also noticed the Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, was right beside the Hufflepuff, his transparent body smokey and blacken. A lump appeared in his throat. He was never this close to any of the attacks last time. Never. But here he was, like… _Mrs. Norris_ … like… It was him.  
  
He should run. Flee before he gets caught— _framed_ —a headache started forming on the spot.  
  
There was a bang, then a giggly voice.  
  
"Oh, what’s a little student doing out of—“ Draco didn’t have time to whirl around to tell Peeves to shut up before he screamed, “ATTACK ATTACK! AN ATTACK ONCE MORE! EVERYONE SHOULD BUY THEIR GRAVESTONES!”  
  
Instantly, the corridor was flooded with people, like the entire student body was hiding behind the doors. After mass confusion and teachers ushering students back into their classrooms, a Hufflepuff pushed his way to the front and his eyes found Draco.  
  
"Malfoy attacked Justin! It was Malfoy! Malfoy did it!” The Hufflepuff yelled, pointing a dramatic finger at him.  
  
“That’s enough, Macmillan!" McGonagall shouted. She gave orders to take Justin to the Hospital Wing and to waft Headless Nick up the stairs, leaving them alone.  
  
"Come along, Malfoy."  
  
"Professor, I didn’t—“  
  
"I'm not the right person to be pleading to. This is out of my hands. I'll take you to Dumbledore."  
  
“Professor—“ Dumbledore was the last person Draco wanted to talk to.

 

* * *

  
He has rarely been in the Headmaster’s office. It was only the times in fifth year he has seen it and it was under someone else's decorating (who had an obsession with pink and cats). Odd objects and portraits of past Headmasters took up every spot on the wall. There was a phoenix on a golden perch by his desk. It was old, shriveled like an old prune. _It’s at the end of its lifetime…_ As if planned, it burst into a fireball of flames, disintegrating into ash.  
  
"Are you familiar with phoenixes, Draco?” A new voice came in the room. Dumbledore was at his office door, a gentle smile twitching his beard upwards. “You do not seem that shocked to see a bird spontaneously combust.”  
  
“Yes I am, sir. The phoenix lives a life, but then grows old and dies.”  
  
“Then?” Dumbledore moved to sit behind his desk.  
  
"It’s reborn from its ashes.” Draco looked at the ashes to see a bald head breaking out.  
  
"Excellent. You are indeed very smart for your age.”  
  
“Thank you, Professor.” Hesitantly, he sat down as well.  
  
"I’m very surprised to find you in my office, Draco. Especially why you are here.”  
  
“Professor, believe me, I didn’t do anything to the Hufflepuff—“  
  
“Yes, I know.”  
  
"Yes, but I didn’t—huh?”  
  
“I do not believe that you attacked those people.”  
  
"Oh…” Draco croaked. He sat there in silence, debating if he can just leave or did Dumbledore have to give him permission.  
  
“Draco, I feel like you’re hiding something.” His head shot up to the Headmaster. Instead of finding an angry face, he saw an understanding one. “Tell me, my boy. What’s troubling you?” _Wait, now’s your chance!_ But Draco’s mouth didn’t seem to work properly with his brain.  
  
"It’s something huge—no one but you can probably understand it. It’s about the future—It’s about Harry—I need to tell you now—“  
  
"Draco,”  
  
"What?”  
  
"You are not a regular student are you?”  
  
"No, far from it.” That’s why I need to tell all of this!  
  
“I didn't think so. Draco, I need to tell you something very important and you can never forget.”  
  
"Okay?”  
  
“Do not tell another soul.”  
  
"What? But you just told me to tell—“  
  
“Knowledge is a wonderful thing, Draco, but it’s very dangerous as well. Tell me, how have you been coping with knowing the things you know?” His mind went though all the sleepless nights.  
  
“I’ve… been a mess. I worry, constantly. I never worried for anyone but me and my family before. It's a... new experience.”  
  
“Now imagine telling that to a friend, or Harry.” They would think Draco needed to go to St. Mungo’s.  
  
"Harry is still a boy. To _me_ you, as well, should be a boy, but it seems you carried a burden early. A second year should worry about exams, and something tells me what you know is far from that."  
  
"But why can’t I tell you?”  
  
"If I knew, my emotions would tamper with the plans. I would want my student to be free from harm, but that could make others suffer at my selfishness.”  
  
He hated when Dumbledore was right.  
  
"This is something that you must carry on your own. I’ve made some bad plans, Draco, but it was for me to not get attached. Attachment makes people reckless, impulsive, and those things never come out so well. I do not like it, and you might not like it as well, but it’s for the best. Understand?”  
  
"Yes, sir—“ The office door opened with a bang and Hagrid barrelled in.  
  
"It wasn’ Draco, Professor Dumbledore! I was talkin’ to him mere seconds before that kid was found. There’s no way he could of—“  
  
“I don’t—“  
  
"I’ll swear to me job, it wasn’ him!“  
  
"Hagrid.”  
  
"I know Draco wouldn’t do such a thing. He’s jus’ a quiet student.”  
  
" _Hagrid!_ ” It was weird for Draco to hear Dumbledore’s voice be raised. “I do not think Draco attacked that student.”  
  
"Oh…” Hagrid’s face turned red in embarrassment. “I’ll just… wait outside then…” He stomped his way back to the office door and slammed it too loudly. “Whoops, sorry there.” He opened it again then closed it again, this time more gently.  
  
“Draco, I know you must not like what I said before and it’s very understandable, but… please, listen to me. Keeping it to yourself is the best way for everyone to stay safe.”  
  
"Of course, Professor. I don’t hate you, by the way. Thank you.” Draco stood up, gave Dumbledore a brief nod, then left.

 

* * *

  
The rest of the time leading up to the holiday break was students practically crawling over each other so they wouldn’t get in his way. As if they stared at him too long, they’d be turned to stone. Anthony, Terry, and Michael didn’t even seem the slightest bit phased that the entire school thought one of their best friend attacked those people.  
  
“You’re too much of a square to attack students, mate,” Terry laughed as he sat next to Draco at breakfast, using the advantage of the free spaces all around Draco to put his school bag there.  
  
“I mean all you do is sleep nowadays,” Michael reasoned. Harry, Weasley and Granger also stood by him as well.  
  
“Don’t worry. We’ll clear your name,” Harry promised.  
  
“Definitely. We’ll do so quite soon. The Polyjuice is almost done.”  
  
He tried not to feel vulnerable without his Ravenclaw friends when they left for home. Everyone else seem to leave and it was only some Slytherins and Harry and his group of friends. _My break with Gryffindors… sounds fun.._.  
  
He nearly forgot to give the three their Christmas presents when he realised something afterwards: _Why did I give them gifts?_

 

* * *

 

"You’re not going to do it?” Weasley said as he and Harry returned from plucking Crabbe and Goyle’s hair for the Polyjuice Potion. It was Christmas night, and everyone has finished going to the feast and now were at their dormitories, stomachs full.

  
"No,” _I’ve seen enough of it as it is,_ ”but I know that the Slytherin Common Room is down in the dungeons, the entrance is a blank stone wall and the password’s..." Draco paused for a moment. "‘Pureblood.’”  
  
“And you know this… how?” Weasley raised an eyebrow.  
  
“What? Didn’t do some snooping around beforehand?” Draco lied.  
  
"You sure you’re a Ravenclaw?” Weasley asked.  
  
"Positive. Now come on, you have an hour,” he said, skimming through the potion once more. He filled three glasses and gave them one each. Granger gave them a bigger pair of robes for when they transformed.  
  
The three (Granger took great pride that she already had her hair) let their hairs hiss and all turned gross shades of green and yellow.  
  
"That looks… awful,” Draco said, gagging at the awful smell. “Wait, give yourself some space. As you noticed, Crabbe and Goyle don’t fit skinny and lanky.” They were all crowded in the stall with the potion. Draco did _not_ want to be squished in.  
  
"Right, we should grab a stall," Harry said. The three went into separate stalls, each locking them.  
  
"Ready?" Harry called out.  
  
"Ready," The other two answered.  
  
Three glasses shattered to the floor a moment later. Draco heard fabric ripping and someone slamming their self into the stall door.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle stepped out of the stalls.  
  
"It worked!” Crabbe said.  
  
"It's very realistic..." Draco suppressed a shiver. “The hour’s begun. Hurry up, it’s a long way down to the dungeons.”  
  
"Hermione? Are you ready?" Goyle asked, knocking on her stall.  
  
“Just—go without me,” a high-pitched voice answered. _That’s not Millicent’s voice._  
  
"We know Bulstrode’s ugly, but come on—“  
  
“No—I really think I shouldn't come. Go without me. You're wasting time."  
  
“Listen to her, you don’t have that much time to begin with.” When the two left the bathroom, an awkward silence filled their presence.  
  
“Why aren’t you going, Hermione?”  
  
“I… got cold feet.”  
  
“I don’t believe that.” Granger getting cold feet, give me a break. "I know for a fact that Millicent doesn't sound like that." Days in the Slytherin Common Room burned her gruff voice into a distant part of his brain. Minutes ticked by, the silence never wavering. Minutes…minutes… Draco was leafing through the potion book when Granger gave a strangled groan.  
  
“What’s up with you?” She shouted, echoing off the walls.  
  
“What do you—“  
  
“You look like any other student, but you have the highest grades, yet I barely see you open a textbook except during exams. Harry never stops talking about you, Ron thinks you’re the greatest ‘mate’ ever. And even I know something is up with you. What is up with you?”  
  
“It’s not your business…” Draco slid down to the floor. “It’s not anyone’s business, but my own.” There was a brief moment of nothing.  
  
“Whatever may be bothering you, you don’t have to think that. We’re friends, believe it or not. We both keep idiots like Ron and Harry out of trouble and I think we could become good friends as well.” Draco stared at the closed stall, unaware of the look of awe on his face. _Friends … actual friends with Hermione Granger._  
  
“Yeah, I think so too,” Draco laughed.  
  
“What’s funny now?”  
  
“Nothing, nothing. Just… I never thought I'd be in this type of situation. Merlin, help us all.” He laughed then so Hermione joined in as well.  
  
The bathroom door opened with a crash and thudding footsteps came in.  
  
“Draco! Hermione! We have so much to tell you!” Harry breathed, his footsteps thudding with the overlarge shoes.  
  
“Where’s Hermione?” Weasley asked.  
  
“Still in her stall. She wouldn’t come out.”  
  
“Hermione? Come on out, we have loads to tell you.” Harry knocked on her stall.  
  
“Uhm—no—“  
  
“Hermione, the potions should've worn off already. Are you still Millicent?” Draco picked himself off the floor and crowded around Hermione’s bathroom stall. The lock clicked loudly.  
  
Black fur covered her face and yellow eyes were wide with cat ears poking out of her hair.  
  
“It was cat hair,” she whispered. “Millicent must have a cat and that was on her robe…” Her voice got quieter and quieter until she was just moving her mouth.

* * *

  
Draco stared at the fireplace, burning brightly to keep the empty Ravenclaw Common Room warm.  
  
Tom’s dairy tightened in his arms.  
  
_Just do this and it’ll be gone._  
  
He just felt a kind of resistance since he was going to be rid of Tom.  
  
Tom, who’s been helping him throughout this entire year. He told everything to him. Which is why he needed to get rid of it.  
  
Tom knew everything about him, about what’s to come, but after his talk to Dumbledore, Draco knew that if he ever lost this diary… everything would be ruined. This dairy was becoming dangerous. It was just a giant accident waiting to happen.  
  
He took the diary in one hand, ready to throw it in the fire. His arms didn’t move. Four more tries and he still couldn’t pry his fingers open to let go.  
  
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and willed his fingers to stop shaking as he felt the leather leave his hand.  
  
A muffled thump and the splintering of firewood made Draco open his eyes.  
  
Tom’s diary curled in the fire, its pages rapidly turning into ash. An insane part of him wanted to save Tom from burning and think of every apology in the book to see if he could ever forgive Draco.  
  
But he walked away instead.  
 

* * *

 

That morning was the first morning in a long while that he felt refreshed after sleeping. A few days ago, the students returned back from holiday break and returned to their skittish ways of being afraid when Draco so much as breathed. He was in the corridor, heading to the library to study with Anthony when someone tapped his shoulder. When he went to look he was surprised to find—  
  
"Lovegood!" She stood there, her robes more rumpled than before and now a red sweater was peeking out of her robes. "Luna, hi."  
  
“Hi, Draco.” I haven’t talked to her since the train ride.  
  
“Er, I’m sorry for not talking to you…” Stop right now, Malfoy.  
  
"That's fine. I needed time to adjust to the school," her whisper-like voice said. "I also noticed that you're pretty busy yourself."  
  
"Yes..."  
  
"But I wanted to see if this was yours?" Luna held out a black book.  
  
_It can't be._  
  
"I found it in the fireplace," Luna said and she didn't look the slightest bit phased. "I thought you'd want it back."  
  
_No! Thousand times no!_  
  
"Uhm, yes, thank you, Luna." Draco tried to stop shaking as he took the diary out of her hands. “I've... been looking all over for it." He wanted to shove the diary back at her and run in the other direction as fast he could.  
  
“You don’t seem all that happy to have it back. The air around you is distressed and went fuzzy.” _The_ air around _me?_  
  
“I… just wanted to get rid of this, but…” It was hard to keep his tone level, "burning it didn’t seem to work.” Luna tilted her head before grabbing the diary again.  
  
“I could get rid of it for you.”  
  
“You what?” No!  
  
“I can get rid of stuff very easily.” She tucked it between her chest and arms.  
  
“No, I could never let you do that—“  
  
“You were nice to me, Draco. It should be known that I should do something in return.”  
  
“Really Luna, that is not necessary—“  
  
“Let me do this for you. I like to help.” Her blue eyes stared up at him, never wavering.  
  
“How come you’re not running away from me like everyone else?”  
  
“You couldn’t hurt those people, Draco. I believe that you didn’t attack those people," she said. “But who ever listens to Looney Lovegood?” As if he didn’t already feel like a prick, now she had to go and say what he called her in his mind since he heard the name Lovegood. “Let me do this for you.”

“You can’t look inside this.”  
  
“Of course, Draco. A person’s dairy is sacred.”  
  
“Er… yeah.”  
  
“Good-bye, Draco.”  
  
“Wait, Lovegood—“ but she was already down the hall and out of sight.  
  
He tried to keep his guilt from eating at his stomach too much.

 

* * *

 

It was a good morning. The sky was clear with the sun finally showing, his ever-lasting headache was gone for another full week. A dreamless night, a promise of a fine day...  
  
Until his eyes saw the red and pink flowers in the Great Hall.  
  
**Valentine's Day.**  
  
He went down to his table to take a seat next to Anthony, who was trying to get a streamer off of his pancakes with his fork.  
  
“I don’t remember Valentine’s being like this last year…” Michael said, gagging at the lace under their plates as he and Terry sat across from Draco and Anthony.  
  
"We didn't have Lockhart last year." Draco was staring at the teachers' table and their eyes followed his to see Lockhart wearing robes that matched the confetti that was on their breakfast.  
  
“Seriously?” Anthony said, exasperated.  
  
“Why am I surprised?” Terry bit.  
  
“Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!” Lockhart was all smiles all the way to the dwarfs wearing diapers and golden wings, labeling them as 'cupids'. “Now, I know some of you are a little too shy to confess your feelings to your sweetie, but fear not! I have found a solution and told my cupids to search for any Valentines hiding under your blankets, trunks, or in your dormitories!” Several people from each table tensed. Ahead of them they could see Chang looking at Lockhart in horror.  
  
“He can’t do that! That’s an invasion of privacy!” Anthony muttered, but Draco really wasn’t listening because he was still looking at the Gryffindor table and noticed Harry was one of the ones that tensed, his fork dropped in mid-air.  
  
“My cupids will be delivering your messages all over the school today, so look forward to that!”  
  
Draco was defiantly not looking forward to it.  
  
All day, classes were being stopped by one of the burly dwarfs barging in and passing out love messages to everyone. Draco was ready to gag if he had to hear another say-out-loud poem beginning with ‘roses are red and violets are blue’.  
  
“Can you believe Lockhart?” Terry fumed as they were traveling down to Potions.  
  
“Oi, Draco Malfoy!” Draco turned around to see a scruffy dwarf hanging off a coat of armor. “Love note for you!” The cupid waved a white envelope before jumping down and shoving students’ legs out of his way to get to Draco.

“Run," Michael said and Draco did so. Barrelling down hallways, he sprinted down the corridors and tripped on someone's spell books that fell to the floor.

“Draco?” Harry was pulling inked parchment and spell books into a messy pile on the floor.  
  
“Hi, Harry." Draco scrambled to grab his bag, stuffing his Potions homework back in. “Can’t talk right now—“  
  
“Oi, Draco Malfoy! Still need to deliver this note!” The cupid's scratchy voice yelled behind him. Draco didn’t worry about how Harry paled when he saw the cupid, and just start running again. Dashing down every hallway like a madman, he felt himself slow down until the cupid collided with his knees and sent him down. The dwarf sat on the back of his calves, making Draco the loser in this chase. “At least I don’t have to read it out loud," the dwarf grumbled, letting the envelope flutter in front of Draco’s face as the weight on the back of his knees disappeared.  
  
This was, by far, the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to him, and all for a note? Standing up, he bent down to pick up the envelope from the floor. It was crumpled by the dwarf's tight grip on it when chasing Draco, but other than that, it looked perfectly normal, seal and all. Draco peeled off the seal and pulled out the note.

  
  
**_I wish I could say all of this to you:_ **  
  
**_How much I really like you_ **

**_And everything you do._ **

**_That smile you rarely show,_ **  
  
**_Your eyes grey as the storming sea_ **  
  
**_Which always captivate me._ **  
  
**_Everyday we see each other_ **  
  
**_And I wish you'd be mine._ **  
  
**_To be the one you tell everything to_ **  
  
**_All while I hold your hand._ **  
  
**_Draco,_ **  
  
**_Will you please be my Valentine?_ **

  
  
  
Draco’s face burned bright pink. _Someone_ likes _me?_ Who could like him? No one he knew could send him this. It was definitely for him, but who sent it? He was the most hated student in Hogwarts! _Who could it possibly be?_ He read the letter once more, his face burning even more. Draco didn’t recognise the handwriting. It was smooth and neat, as if someone poured hours into making it look this nice. _Hours… for me?_ The thought made Draco’s heart stutter its beating.  
  
A student suddenly shot around the corner, bag trailing notes with books stuffed inside half hazardously. Their eyes were looking in all directions when they found his.  
  
“Harry?”  
  
“Draco, don’t—“ He stopped, looking at the letter in Draco’s hands and seemed to forget what he was going to say. “Erm… what’s that?”  
  
“A note…”   
  
“Er, what’s it say?” Harry asked, not taking his eyes off it once.  
  
“They talk about… things… they asked me to be their Valentine.” Draco was aware of his warm face.  
  
“Really? That’s so weird…” Harry trailed off.  
  
“What do you mean weird?” Draco said immediately.  
  
“What? No—I just mean—who sent it?” Harry was fumbling with his words. Harry stopped looking at the letter and finally realised the puddle of ink his bag was making and set it down on the floor to repack. As Harry took out the dripping textbooks and quills, Draco finally felt pity and started helping him.  
  
“It’s not that strange. I find it…” Draco was careful not to wrinkle the edges as he set it down to organise Harry’s ink-soaked books, “… nice.” He felt himself smile. _Who was it, though?_ “But I have no idea who sent it.”  
  
“Oh…” Harry thinned his mouth to a line as if to keep his face from taking on an emotion. “Okay…”  
  
“Something wrong?”  
  
”No,” Harry replied too enthusiastically, but he cleared his throat and when he spoke again it was gone. “I… just need to get those back to the common room. I need to see if I can find a spell that’ll clean up this mess.”  
  
“Well, there’s this one spell that…” Draco was about to continue until his eyes went to the object in Harry’s hand, which he was about to stuff in his bag.

_His diary._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~oh I wonder who could’ve sent him that letter oh I wonder.~~
> 
>  
> 
>  I didn’t want to make an OC appear more than once, but here we are…


	18. The Chamber of Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right here it is! 
> 
> A chapter, completely in… 
> 
> HARRY’S POV.
> 
> btw im _deep_ in stony hell.

Harry was going to tell Draco that it was his letter. He really was. Only, maybe after his spellbooks had dried, and the broken glass was picked out from the sides of his schoolbag. But Draco liked his letter. He actually _liked_ it.

The conclusion made him feel giddy, his stomach doing flips that had become familiar at this point. The crush he's been nursing on Draco since they'd visited the Mirror of Erised last year has been slowly growing out of control. It took a huge leap of confidence and hope to write the letter in the first place. He had ended up backing out on it and left it in his dormitory... but then Lockhart's dwarfs ransacked for letters and apparently found his. 

But it was okay because Draco _liked_  his letter. 

"Harry?" Draco called quietly. Harry looked up to see the blond staring down at Riddle's diary. 

"Yeah?" 

"Where'd you get that?" he asked. Harry looked down at the cover, surprised to see it dry, unlike his other supplies. 

"Ron and I found it..." Ron would never be able to look at Draco in the eyes if Harry told him where they were when they found it, so he didn't elaborate.  

"Can I see it?" Draco asked, his hand stretched out. 

Harry hesitated, it didn't feel right to give Draco the diary. An instinct in the back of his head was telling him, _no_ , that giving it to the blond would be a bad thing. He was about to refuse when Draco moved his eyes-- _those grey eyes--_ to him, shining with an emotion that Harry couldn't figure out... He blinked and the other boy was flipping through the diary's pages. 

Draco let out a long breath. 

"It's blank." He closed it back to the cover. "Who's... Riddle?" 

"I don't know, Ron said that he was a Prefect here at Hogwarts fifty years ago when the supposed Chamber of Secrets was opened." 

"A Prefect? _Here_?" Harry nodded and Draco's face went slack. 

"We've been trying to figure it out, if it had invisible ink or some sort of charm on it, but even Hermione is having trouble breaking it." 

"Well--" Draco's fingers tapped on the diary's surface as if he was nervous. "Well, maybe it's just a blank diary, Harry," 

"That's the thing," Harry moved his schoolbag to the side, the floor streaking with ink as he leant closer to Draco. "It's a feeling I have. Something is important about this diary. I just need to hold onto it."

The blond watched his fingers tap on the diary, seeming lost in thought.

"Can I have it back?" Harry held out his hand, but the diary did not move. "Draco, are you okay?" 

"What," Draco seemed startled. "Oh, yes, I'm perfectly fine." he held out the diary and Harry took it, slipping it back in his schoolbag. 

"Class!" Harry remembered. "We have class! I'll see you later!" Harry hoisted his schoolbag up and raced off, not noticing that the other boy was still sitting on the floor, unmoving. 

 

* * *

 

Months had passed since the attack on Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick. Draco seemed to no longer frighten his other housemates or make the Hufflepuffs scatter away from him anymore now that the rumours were slowly passing. Yet, Draco always appeared oddly silent, barely reacting to things around him when Harry saw him at meals. Harry still hasn't told him about the theory that Hagrid might've been the one who opened the chamber or that he'd figure out Riddle's diary at all. 

"Harry, what's Draco doing with your stalker?"

Harry stopped thinking about Saturday's Quidditch match that was tomorrow and whirled around to face Ron. 

"What?" Ron pointed down the breakfast table and Harry could barely see Colin Creevey around the students. Still, he saw him, Draco standing behind where he was seated. They were leaning very close to one another, no doubt talking in hushed voices. He could see Colin shaking his head, but Draco seemed to be trying to reason with him. Harry saw Draco give him a pleading look that caused something vile to course through Harry's system. Draco said something else, and Colin closed his mouth. Finally, Colin seemed to agree with whatever Draco was saying with a tired nod. Harry was shocked that he saw Draco giving him a quick hug.  

"He's been talking to Creevey for weeks now." Ron managed to say between bites of toast. 

"He has?" 

"You haven't noticed?" 

"I guess not." Harry tried to shake the vile feeling away. It wasn't working.

Before they left class for the day, he caught Colin in the corridor, trying to see if he could say what Draco told him.

"I-I can't say, Harry, er, Draco made me promise." Colin shifted from foot to foot, visibly gulping. "And, and," Creevey seemed to steel himself. "stealing someone's stuff is wrong, Harry!" he said. "but I still think you're cool, maybe--"  

"What?" 

"I gotta go!" Colin took off in the other direction. 

He was still trying to understand later that evening when he found his dormitory ransacked and Riddle's diary gone.

"Who could've stolen it in the first place? Only a Gryffindor could know the password," Hermoine said when Harry sat down with her in the Common Room.

"Exactly..." Harry said. 

"I don't know, but they must've felt bad about it," Ron sighed, coming down the stairs. 

"Why's that?" Hermione asked. 

"They left this." Ron dropped something on the table. It was a piece of parchment torn up on one side with small, neat letters spelling 'Sorry!' with a frowning face drawn under it. 

 

* * *

 

Harry was mentally preparing for Oliver Wood to yell after the Quidditch match, because his mind was in dozens of places and he knew that he was going to completely lose for his team. However, before Harry could get to a high altitude, McGonagall appeared with another student by her side on the field.

Over the booing of the cancelled match, Harry went back to the ground and saw it was Draco by the professor's side, looking more sickly than he ever had. Despite Wood's argument, McGonagall focused on Harry and told him to follow her. Ron saw this happen and broke away from the crowd to know what Harry was in trouble for that time. 

"What's this about, professor?" Ron asked when he found himself behind a quiet Draco. 

"I guess you should come as well, Mr. Weasley..." McGonagall said. "I'm sorry to show you this, but there was another attack, a _double_ attack," she said in a soft voice as they approached the infirmary. Harry felt his stomach shift as they stepped into the bright Hospital Wing. 

"Penelope!" Draco gasped, taking a step back from the Petrified Ravenclaw on an infirmary bed.

At the same time, Ron said, "Hermione!" He and Harry went to her side, her statue-like appearance making it harder for them to process. Meanwhile, Draco stayed rooted in his spot, eyes wide as he stared at the older Ravenclaw girl. 

"Mr. Malfoy, I've heard rumours going around saying that _you_ did this, along with the attack on the Hufflepuff boy," the professor said. Harry briefly glanced up from Hermione, looking at said boy in the last row of beds, "but I know you wouldn't attack your own housemate and a close friend, would you?" McGonagall's robes made a rustling noise as she walked up beside the blond, who stepped closer to the girl -- Penelope, Draco called her. 

"No, no!" Draco wrapped his arms around himself. "I'd _never_..." Draco looked at Petrified Hermione with scared eyes. "I wouldn't do it to _anybody_." 

"It's alright, Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall gently said. "I'm sorry I had to question you, I just feel awful about this." she patted Draco's arms. "I found this with them outside the library," she addressed the last sentence to Harry and Ron and held out a mirror that came out of her robe pocket.

Ron took it out of her hands, looking over it. The blonde male seemed to go back and forth from the Penelope to Hermione. 

"Professor, can I go?" Draco asked. 

"Yes, yes, I'll escort you back, all three of you."

Harry cast one last look at Hermione before McGonagall's sleeve blocked his view. 

 

* * *

 

Harry wasn't trying to be mean, but Draco's father, Lucius, made the Dursleys seem like the Weasleys. That's what he learned when he and Ron hid in Hagrid's hut. He would probably never figure out how someone as amazing and nice as Draco could have a father like Lucius Malfoy. That wasn't the only thing he learned, though; he learned from Aragog that Hagrid was innocent. The thought of Moaning Myrtle could've been the victim of the Heir of Slytherin all those years ago never came to mind until recently. 

"Harry." Draco's voice was beside him, and Harry turned to see Draco sitting  _right next to him_  at the Gryffindor table at breakfast."Ron,"

Harry tried not to let his hope swell over the fact that there was an empty spot next to Ron across the table, yet Draco chose the one next to him. 

"Yeah?" Harry could feel his pulse flutter.  

"Something the matter?" Ron asked. 

"I need to..." Draco mumbled. He shook his head as if he lost the words he was going to say. "I need to tell you something," he finally got out. His hands were running over one another. That wasn't like him. 

"Well, then we're listening." Ron dropped his oatmeal spoon.

"It's something to do with the Chamber of Secrets." 

"Hurry up then!" Harry couldn't help the glare he gave Ron who just shrugged, giving more rapt attention to the conversation now. 

"I think--I think I'm--"

Just then, Percy Weasley took the seat next to Ron. 

"Hello, Ron, Harry," he smiled then he saw the blond. "Draco, right? Shouldn't you be on at your own table?" 

"You're right, sorry!" Draco jumped out is his seat like he was burned and fled, not even going to the Ravenclaw table, leaving the Great Hall altogether.

"Percy! He was going to tell us something important!" Ron groaned. 

"I didn't mean that he had to move. I didn't mean to scare him off like that. Didn't think I _could_  scare a Malfoy like that." Percy said. "Could you pass me the rolls, Harry?" 

 

* * *

 

"Really? Now?" Ron said. "Of all the times the Heir to strike, they pick  _now_?"

Harry had to agree. They've been waiting outside the teacher's lounge for Professor McGonagall just for her to announce that students needed to return to their dormitories. 

"We can't leave," Harry said, he went inside and saw a wardrobe to his left. "Hide in here." They scrambled inside just as the sound of student's footsteps rumbled above them, and the room's door slammed opened; Harry could see teacher's robes pouring in. Harry could make out McGonagall's green robes. The lounge door squeaked as she closed it.  

"It has happened," McGonagall's voice was clipped. "A student has been taken in the Chamber itself." Professors started whispering worriedly. Harry could see Professor Snape was steadily silent. 

"How can you be so sure?" Sprout asked. 

"The Heir left another message right under the first," McGonagall said, "' _His skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever._ '" Flitwick placed a hand on his chest as if to keep his heart inside. 

"Who is the student?" Madam Hooch timidly asked, standing beside Snape. "What's the student's name?"

Ron and Harry moved closer. 

"A second year," McGonagall's gaze seem to gravitate to Snape's. "Draco Malfoy."

Professor Flickwick fainted, Professor Sprout hurriedly went down to his side. Snape seemed to stagger, gripping on the back of a chair so tight that his knuckles went white, his face carefully blank. Madam Hooch grabbed him to steady his sense of gravity. 

Harry himself felt his entire weight sink as he slid down to the wardrobe floor. Everything seemed muted. Everything felt... _terrible_. The world seemed the darken. Harry didn't remember where he was for a moment until Lockhart's voice broke through along with Ron's nudging. 

"What did I miss?" Lockhart yawned before smiling. Snape's gazed snapped towards him. 

"Lockhart, just the man I needed. A student--my godson, no less--has been taken by a monster. Taken right into the Chamber of Secrets. Lockhart, your chance has finally arrived." 

"My what?" Lockhart's smile waned a bit. 

"That's right, Gilderoy." Professor Sprout dropped Flitwick that was coming to on the floor as she stood up. "Didn't you say that you knew where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was this entire time?" 

"I don't remember saying those _exact_ words--" 

"And that you knew what the monster that was inside the Chamber?" Flitwick said on the floor. 

"Well, I had a _theory_ \--" 

"And that you wished you had a crack at said monster before Hagrid was arrested?" said Snape, the hand on his chair seemed to get tighter. 

"Maybe in passing--" Lockhart fumbled. 

"Terrific," McGonagall clapped her hands."Tonight, we'll leave it to you to tackle that monster. We'll have everyone out your way and everything. Isn't that right, everyone?" the professor's stony expression didn't change as they agreed.

Lockhart's bottom lip trembled as he was turned out of the room, muttering incoherently as McGonagall shoved him out and closed the door. 

"Right," she straightened with a sniff. "That gets rid of _him_. The Head of Houses should go and inform their students of the Express that'll arrive tomorrow to bring them home. Please make sure that there are no loose students still running around. This will be the final year of Hogwarts." McGonagall found Snape in the faces of grim professors. "Severus, are you alright? I'm sure that Mr. Malfoy can't be--" 

"I'm fine, Minerva. We need to focus on the students." Snape released his grip on the chair and walked out of the room, his black robes fluttering in his wake. 

"Is that student really his godson?" Madam Hooch asked. 

"Yes," McGonagall said, rubbing under her glasses. "Mr. Malfoy's a good student, top of his class actually. He might be the only thing Severus cares about in this whole school. I can't imagine what might be going through his head right now." 

Harry felt he had an idea. 

 

* * *

 

The day just kept getting worst for Harry. He, Ron, Fred, and Geroge were sitting at a table in the corner of the Gryffindor Common Room. Despite how everyone was crowded together, no one was saying anything, and it made Harry feel worst. Fred and Geroge tried to coax him into talking, to say _anyt_ _hing_ , but Harry said nothing. Ginny awkwardly patted his knee for comfort before the silence became unbearable and left for her dormitory. Fred and Geroge followed suit, probably grabbing something in their dorm to liven up the room. 

"It was because he knew something, right?" Harry asked, making Ron's head jump from the table. It was the first time he'd spoken since they'd found out about Draco. "That's what he was going to tell us that morning." _Draco was sitting right next to me, but I let him leave._ "He was going to tell us something about the Chamber of Secrets. He's--He's a pureblood, right? Not muggle-born or half-blood. That has to be the explanation." Harry felt awful that he was just sitting there, doing nothing. If he could do anything, he would do it. Anything. 

"Harry," Ron said cautiously, "do you like, er, that is, do you like--Do you think Draco's still, you know...?" Harry didn't know what to say. "D'you know what?" Ron rose from his seat. "Let's go to Lockhart. Tell him what we know. He's going into the Chamber, right? Maybe we can tell him about the basilisk. And if there's a chance that Draco is still, you know, then maybe he can save him!'  

"Do you think that'll work?" Harry also got up from his chair. Ron nodded.  

 

* * *

 

Lockhart's office was half-packed when Harry and Ron were let inside. Portraits were running around, panic in all of their faces as Lockhart was stuffing pastel-colored robes in his trunk.

"Are you _leaving_?" said Harry, disbelieved. 

"I got an urgent call--it was unavoidable--" 

"What about Draco?" 

"Well, Mr. Malfoy--very unfortunate--my condolences--" 

"You can't talk about him being dead without looking for him first!" Ron said jerkily. 

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher! You can't leave now!" Harry took a step forward. 

"Well, when I took the job, I didn't expect that I'd--" 

"But all the stuff you did in your books!" Ron said. "All those things you recite like play lines!" 

"Books can be inaccurate." Lockhart clicked his trunk closed. 

"But you wrote--" 

"Please, Harry, my boy, none of my books would sell if I said some old warlock save his village from werewolves, the man didn't have the face for stardom. I had to stretch the truth a bit." 

"So you lied to make yourself look better?" 

"It's a cruel world out there, Harry." Lockhart placed the truck beside the others. "Now," Lockhart's elegant wand was picked up from his desk. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to erase your memories. Can't have you exposing me, I'll never sell another book."  

Lockhart's wand was in Ron's hand before he could open his mouth.

"Well, by all means, professor, I think this will be your big break," Ron's lip curled up, his wand inches from his neck. 

"You're in luck, we know where the Chamber is and what's inside. Let's go." Harry also pointed his wand at Lockhart. 

"You, you can't be serious?" the professor gawped. 

"Deadly," Harry said, poking Lockhart at his side to get him moving. 

"What's wrong with kids these days!? The youth has been _corrupted_!" Lockhart moaned as he was forced to walk out of his room. 

 

* * *

 

The chamber was barely lit, Harry could hear water drip as it echoed all around him. He suddenly wished that Ron wasn't stuck on the other side of the rocks with a frazzled Lockhart. His ears strained to hear something that could sound like the basilisk, but he could only hear his footsteps as he walked further into the chamber. At the end of the chamber, he saw a figure on the floor, the back of black robes facing him and a head of blonde hair. 

" _Draco_!" Harry ran down the chamber to go to Draco's side and dropped to his knees. "Draco, don't be dead, please--" Harry's voice was wavering. He grabbed his shoulders to pull him over. Draco was marble-white, his face showing no life or movement, but his eyes were closed so that had to mean... "Wake up Draco, you have to wake up!"  

"He isn't going to wake up," a soft voice said. Harry's gaze went to the wall where a tall, black-haired boy was leaning casually. Harry has seen the boy before. 

" _Tom? Tom Riddle_?" 

"You seem to be worried about him," Riddle said, not taking his eyes off Harry. "Almost _too_ worried." 

"You can't--does that mean he's not--" his heart clenched painfully. 

"He's alive. Barely so, but alive." Harry eyed Riddle's young, misted face. 

"How are you here?" 

"I'm a memory. Stuck in the pages of a diary for fifty years." He pointed to the black diary on the floor, but Harry didn't process it, intent on trying to get Draco to safety. 

"You've got to help me, Tom." Harry picked up Draco's head. "We've got to get him out of here. There's a basilisk around here. Please, help me with him." Riddle didn't move even when Harry struggled to get Draco off the floor and only managing halfway. He couldn't see his wand anywhere. "Have you seen my..." Harry saw Riddle's eye his wand with content boredom as he twirled it between his long fingers. "Thanks." Harry held out his hand for it. Riddle gave him a sideways smile. Not able to struggle anymore with Draco's weight, Harry lowered him back to the floor. "Listen, Tom, we have to go! The basilisk could come at any minute--" 

"It won't come unless it's called." Tom calmly said. 

"What do you mean? Look, I need my wand back, I might need to use it." 

"You won't be needing it anymore." Riddle's smile suddenly looked incongruous, too cold for Riddle's handsome face. "I've waited a long time for you, Harry Potter," Riddle said. "A very long time."

"We don't have time for this. We're in the _Chamber_ _of_ _Secrets_ , Tom. We can talk later when we're--" 

"We're going to talk now." Riddle pocketed his wand, his smile broadening and Harry suddenly felt like something was wrong in this situation. He slightly scooted himself and Draco away from where Riddle was standing. 

"How did Draco get like this?" He suppressed the shiver he got from looking down at Draco's motionless body. 

"A long story." Riddle pushed himself off the wall. "But the short version is that Draco Malfoy poured his heart and deepest secrets to an invisible stranger." 

"What are you saying?" 

" _Me_ , Harry Potter, me and the diary, _my_ diary." Riddle placed a hand on his chest as if he was modest, but there was nothing but smug pride twisting his face. "Draco has been writing in it for months on end. The things he told me... I tell you, he surprised me. He's much more interesting then he's made out to be." Riddle spread his arms out. "The stories he'd tell! The secrets, the _knowledge_!" he bellowed, ricocheted off the chamber wall. "The things he's seen, oh, the things he's _seen_." Giddy laughter suddenly burst out of his mouth, and the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up. "I simply never grew bored of his stories! He carries all of this weight alone and it's like he's having a mid-life crisis at twelve! Worrying about outcomes of certain events, how this or that will affect the future, or..." Tom peeked at him through his black hair. "how did he ever become friends with Harry Potter despite all the things that happened." 

Nothing was making sense to Harry. The hidden meaning behind the boy's words was going over Harry's head. Riddle was saying all these things about Draco, but they couldn't be true. Yet, Riddle was standing there a gleaming grin on his face like his words were nothing if not true, but they _couldn't_ be... Right? 

"But Draco simply _adored_ me." Riddle went on. "He told me all his troubles and I was sympathetic. You know, I've always had a knack for charming the right people to get what I wanted. I was the sole person he could ever count on; he told me _everything_. I grew stronger with each of his deepest, darkest secrets. I became so strong that I started pouring _my_ secrets into Draco, _my_ soul into him..." 

"You can't mean..." 

"Yes, that is what I mean, Harry Potter. Draco Malfoy opened the Chamber, he wrote the messages on the wall, he set the Serpent of Slytherin on everybody. It was all him." 

"No, not really him--" 

" _Yes_ , it was." Riddle gave a weak chuckle. "It was funny in the beginning. He didn't know what was happening. _Tom, have I said anything weird lately? Tom, Anthony keeps saying that I'm pale. Tom, I keep on forgetting what's happening...Tom, I don't know what's going on!_ " Riddle laughed and Harry made fists at his sides. "But soon, Draco caught on to me a tried to get rid of me. He threw me in the fireplace, can you believe that?" Riddle clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "But that didn't work. He got rid of me again, then, it worked in a way." his head shot up to Harry, a maddening gleam in his eye. "That's where _you_ come in." 

"Me?" 

"Draco has told me all about you. _So_ much about you. You and your _rich history_. You're always on his mind, you know?" Riddle's eyes glittered and Harry hated that he blushed at his words. "Tell me, how did you defeat the greatest wizard of all time as an infant. Tell me how you defeated Lord Voldemort." 

"Why? Voldemort was after your time." 

"That's where you're wrong." 

 

* * *

 

Harry was still trying to recover his breath when someone groaned in pain across the chamber.

“Draco!” He ran over to Draco who was sitting up and rubbing his eyes. 

“Harry—” Draco barely caught a look at Harry’s bloodied robes when Harry pulled him into a desperate hug, the Sword of Gryffindor scraping against the stone floor.

“Draco, you’re all right!” Harry felt Draco's soft blonde hair on his cheek, and he pulled the boy closer. 

"Harry?" Draco said hoarsely. He pulled away from the hug and saw Draco's grey eyes stare back at him _._  "Harry, it was Tom, I--I tried to tell you at breakfast, but I couldn't--it's the diary--I'm such an _idiot_ \--why didn't I see it before--I can't believe that I was so _stupid_ \--" 

"Draco, it's fine," said Harry. "The basilisk is dead and Riddle is gone." Harry pointed towards the dead snake and dropped the dairy into his lap, the fang-sized hole gaping in the middle. "He's gone, Draco." 

"Gone?" he muttered, trying to get to back on his feet.  "You killed the basilisk?" he asked when he found the sword in Harry's hand.

"Yeah, kinda had to..." 

"That's... actually really impressive..." the blond laughed weakly. Harry felt a swell of pride, making him unable to fight the urge to puff his chest slightly . 

"Hurry, we have to get you out of here. Ron should be here--" 

" _Ron's_ _here_?" 

"And Lockhart, come on," Harry grabbed Draco's hand, leading him back to the front of the chamber. 

"Thank you, Harry."

They stopped walking so Harry could look back at the boy. The corners of Draco's mouth was lifted up. Harry abruptly realised that he and Draco were _holding hands for a long time_. Draco's hand felt warm in his and Harry hoped that he could pass off the lie that his palms were getting sweaty because he fought the Serpent of Slytherin. "I don't know how I could ever repay you." Harry looked back up to the grey eyes that he liked so much. 

"It's nothing, really." he tugged on their hands to start walking again. 

 

* * *

 

The four stepped in Professor McGonagall's office and Harry was hit with a smell of expensive perfume before it brushed past him and Draco was swept up in a hug by a woman. Snape appeared behind her. 

"Draco!" The woman's voice seemed to shake. "Love," she stepped away from the hug and knelt in front of Draco, her glossy nails moving all over Draco's dirty face. "are you hurt?" 

"No, Mother, I'm fine," Draco smiled and Harry felt too much air rush into his lungs and he coughed. That brilliant smile was directed at him now. "Harry..." Snape's eyes seem to stare through Harry and the warm feeling in his chest grew cold. 

"Harry?" Draco's mother turned around towards him. Her eyes looked down at his bloody robes, then travelled up to his scar. She saw Ron trying bat Lockhart's hands away from his dirt riddled hair. She looked back at Draco, an obvious question in her eyes: _what does he have to do with this?_

"Harry and Ron went into the Chamber to see if they could find me. He saved me." Her gaze went back to Harry's, then it was Harry who was surrounded by the smell of perfume.  

"Thank you." She tightened her arms, not seeming to care that her expensive-looking clothes were touching basilisk blood. Harry could only blink in shock. Her arms left him, and she went over to Ron, who's eyes became wide as she pulled him into a hug. "Both of you, thank you."

Lockhart gave a wide smile, nodding as if to say  _'A job well done'._

"Anything for a friend..." Ron gasped, his face grew red. Professor Snape stiffly walked towards Harry. 

"Mr. Potter," Ron stood next to Harry like he was ready to receive punishment. "Mr. Weasely." Snape seemed to have trouble forming the words he was going to say. "Thank you, for your acts to save Mr. Malfoy." Lockhart walked up beside Snape, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

"Quite, touching, isn't it?" Lockhart smiled at the two Gryffindors. "Also," he turned to Snape. "who are you?" 

Ron was still trying to close his mouth when the door opened again, and Lucius was standing there, his hand still on the doorknob and his breathing laboured. His eyes darted to everyone in the room before they landed on Draco. 

"Son," He, too, gave Draco a hug, though it was much shorter than the one shared with Draco and his mother. "What happened?" he asked, pulling back, holding the boy by the shoulders as he looked him over. 

"I really don't know, Father." 

"I think we would all like to know," McGonagall said, who was standing silently by the fireplace mantle with an equally quite Dumbledore. 

"Maybe, Mr. Malfoy should be taken to the Hospital Wing," Dumbledore suggested. 

"I'll take him," Snape said, ducking beneath Lockhart's arm. Draco gave Harry and Ron one last look before Snape reached him and couldn't be seen behind the black robes. 

"Now then," Dumbledore shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Harry, could you tell us what happened? Preferably from the beginning." 

Lucius was still trying to process all he was told after Harry explained everything. 

"My son, talking with the Dark Lord... the _Dark_ _Lord,_ Narcissa." the man mumbled and his wife placed a comforting hand on his leg.  

"Do you know how Draco got in possession of the diary?" McGonagall asked. 

"No, I don't know why my son would want a diary. He's never showed anything interest in things like that." Narcissa said. "Lucius?" 

"No," the man said. "I have no idea how Draco got hold of that diary." the way Lucius stiffened his shoulders made Harry think otherwise, but he held his tongue. 

"Well, I guess that can wait till later. We should be grateful that these two risked their life to save your son." 

Two pairs of silver eyes found his. Malfoy got up and seemed to prowl towards the two. 

"Thank you," Lucius' tone was formal, his gaze went to Ron who visibly tried to shrink himself. "Thank you, to you both." Lucius held out a hand towards Harry. He tried not to flinch as his hand touched a cold ring on the blond man's finger. No sooner had he dropped the hand before it was pointed at Ron, who's eyes widened like they did when he saw the trail of spiders. Ron grabbed the hand and kept it there, not moving it. Lucius took it upon himself to shake Ron's hand. "I suppose... I was wrong about you Weasleys." The awkwardly long handshake was over and Lucius turned back to Dumbledore. 

"I'm going to see Draco," Narcissa said and Lucius followed his wife. 

"Gilderoy, you were quite during this entire exchange. Are you alright?" McGonagall questioned.

Lockhart looked around him, seeing no one, and pointed a finger to himself. "Are you referring to me?" 

"Of course, professor," Dumbledore explained.

"I'm a professor? That's impressive." McGonagall raised an eyebrow at the two boys. 

"Er, Professor Lockhart--" Harry said,

"That's me, right?" 

"--got hit with a memory charm." 

"I see," Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles glinted. "I guess the position for Defense Against the Dark Arts is open again. Oh my, who will fill it next year I wonder..." Dumbledore mumbled, taking a seat at McGonagall's desk. 

"I'm going to get cleaned up," Ron said suddenly, scratching at a track of dried mud on his face. He and Harry walked over to the door as Lockhart nodded obediently at McGonagall's whispering.  

"Harry, could I talk to you for a moment?" Dumbledore's airy voice called him back. 

 

* * *

 

He saw Draco sitting on an infirmary bed, eating a bar of chocolate when he entered the Hospital Wing. 

"Madam Pomfrey said it'll make me feel better," Draco explained. 

"Is it?" Harry took a chance a sat down next to him, glad the stench of the chamber was now washed away from himself. 

"Doesn't fix anything," Draco snorted. "But then again," he bit into another square. "nasty-tasting potions won't either. Or maybe so." Draco held out the chocolate. "Want some?" 

"Er, no thank you." The blonde shrugged and bit into the chocolate bar one more time before he sighed and let his hand drop in his lap. 

"Tom was--Riddle was--I trusted him so easily, Harry." Draco's voice was small, struggling to stay levelled. "I didn't know what I was doing--I just wanted someone to talk to--I never imagined that this would happen." 

“S’all right, you’re okay. Tom’s gone, the diary’s destroyed. Everything is fine.” Draco shook his head as if he was ashamed of himself. 

"It only took a few moments of him talking before I poured out my life to him. I was so eager to talk to someone..." his eyes were glassy when he face Harry. "I never wanted to hurt anybody." his sight drifted over to the beds that used to hold Hermione and the sixth year Ravenclaw. His tone was different at the end like he was talking about something more than just the attacks. 

"You could've told me, Draco. You didn't have to invest in a diary for that. I meant it when I said that I could help you last year... I..."  _I really care about you. I really, really like you._

"It's not--" Draco stopped suddenly as if the idea just struck him, his eyes widened. "Maybe I could've." the foil of the chocolate bar crinkled in his lap. "Sorry, I guess I forgot." he huffed a sad laugh. "I never really had such an option like that before. Never had someone like you before." Harry's eyes widened themselves as he looked at Draco, but the other boy was still looking into a random spot in the infirmary. "I feel so stupid." 

“I know you didn't mean any of this to happen. It was Tom, but he’s gone now, right?”

Draco was silent.

“Yes, he’s gone…” They sat in comfortable silence. The blonde shifted closer and placed his head on Harry's shoulder with a quiet sigh. "Thanks again, Harry." 

Harry hoped that Draco couldn't hear his heartbeat in the quietness of the infirmary. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All grammar/spelling mistakes in prior chapters have been corrected by OmbreOwl. (To the greatest extent.) 
> 
> Happy 4th of July to my fellow Americans!


	19. Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still alive! I'm so sorry for the basic abandonment of this fic that wasn't my intention!! it started off with writer's block then school started up again and... now it's 2017. i don't have an excuse... but now this school year is OVER AND wOW has this fic grown!! over 2000+ kudos with over 400+ bookmarks!! h o w?? thank you so much!! im still confused and surprised every time i think about it... 
> 
> as an apology i added a special scene of harry's pov of him pining.

Harry's shoulder was comfortable under his head. Draco could smell his clean robes, soft and warm. There's a stiffness from Harry as if he's trying not to move. The last of the chocolate is bitten away, melting in his mouth. I might be developing a sweet tooth, he thought as he crumpled the wrapper. 

Harry cleared his throat. "Draco," 

"Hm?" Harry didn't reply.

"Am I really... the first person you felt that you could trust?" Draco opened his eyes, moving his head away to look at the other boy.

 _Did I say that? I_ did _say that._ Heat flushed over his face. "You are." _But you didn't have to_ tell  _him that._  "You don't know how much I'm... happy that we're friends." His eyes shifted away, unable to speak while looking at Harry. "I was never--good at keeping friendships. Friendships that I could count on. I was either too untrusting--or I trusted the wrong people." Unwanted emotion got stuck in his throat. Draco took a moment to collect himself. "I was never quite good enough to feel like someone should've cared about me that wasn't... my mother. Meeting you was new. You were insistent, you seemed _happy_ to see _me_ , you didn't seem to want to stop being friends even if I seemed... weird at times." He smiled. "I know I have an awful way of showing it, don't I? But, this year made me begin to understand. I'm still trying to get the whole... friend thing in order. But, Harry, just know that I... really do care about you. And I'll never forget what you did for me. Is there any way I can thank you? For saving my life?"

"Just..." Harry tapped his fingers on the bed. "talk to me, as we _are_ friends. Maybe we can hang out, just, the two of us... as friends..." Somehow, the way Harry spoke that word-- _friends, friends_ \--made him feel off-put. "We don't seem to see each other that much. I don't want us to stop talking because of it. You can promise me that we'll spend more time together--but you can say no." Draco couldn't even think why he would say no. 

"Okay, it's a promise." He held out his hand. Harry quirked up his mouth, lifting his hand to place it in the other boy's. They did an exaggerated shake, sealing the agreement, both breaking into laughs and wide grins. Their movements slowed until it was only them, holding on to each other's hands, their smiles falling off as they both just  _looked_ at one another. Draco felt strangely breathless. There was the same shift. The shift of something vulnerable and soft in the air, the same way it was during the night in front of the Mirror of Erised. Draco felt the ghost of Harry's fingers brushing hair out of his eyes, of his face hiding in the crook of a thin neck. The air sharpened with _closeness_ and _quietness_. Grey eyes blinked widely at Harry's own stare ( _They're still a_ really bright _green)_ as there was  _something_ different,  _something_ was changing and it was leaving Draco confused and his chest squirming with warmth. 

" _MALFOY!_ " A collaborated shout made Draco and Harry move apart, their heads turning to the Hospital Wing's doors and see three breathless Ravenclaws, dressed in pyjamas, all in various stages of... anger. 

Draco didn't even have a question formed before Anthony was speaking. "Professor Flitwick firstly--announced to the _entire_ _tower_ to tell us that Hogwarts is _closing_! That students can never come back! Then, he pulls us aside to tells us that you were taken to the _Chamber of Secrets with no chance of coming back?_ Rumours have never spread so fast before! They were saying you were _dead_! Right in front of us! After mentally scarring me, he makes us go to bed--just to pull us out to tell you were in the Hospital Wing without a _scratch_. What's going _on_?" 

"Do--Do you even know _how_ shocked and--and worried we were?" Micheal had a deranged facial expression of someone rudely disturbed from sleep. Terry was still trying to blink the sleep away from his eyes as he slumped on the bed across from Harry and Draco. 

"Sorry, it just," the blonde tried helplessly to grasp for words. "happened." 

"You don't just _happen_ to find yourself in the Chamber of Secrets, Malfoy!" Draco used to wish for Anthony to call him Malfoy, but now it sounds awful in the Ravenclaw's voice. Anthony promptly wrapped his arms around Draco, feeling the maddening squeeze of mother-like relief. " _Don't_ do that again! All of us was worried. I think Michael was about to cry." 

"Was not!" Micheal shrieked. 

"Don't lie to yourself!" Anthony glared his eyes, not moving his face away from its place in Draco's hair. 

"Have we properly met?" Michael suddenly asked, turning around towards Harry, wanting to steer the conversation away from him. "I feel like we're aware of our existence, but never chatted." 

"No," Harry stood up, standing as he was questioned. "I'm, um, Harry Potter." 

"Had no idea." Micheal deadpanned. "Micheal Corner. This is Terry Boot." He laid a hand said boy's shoulder who jolted up at the touch. "And the loud one is Anthony Goldstein."   

"I knew something was wrong with you." Anthony clicked, finally releasing the blonde, seeming to ignore Harry's introduction. "I'm never doubting myself again. All that spacing out, the silence, the tiredness. What was I _thinking_?" 

"I'm... sorry." Draco cast his eyes down. It was a trick that he's learned to make Anthony forgive him for just about anything. 

Anthony groaned tiredly. "I have no energy to lecture you. At least you're okay. They announced a feast before we came down here. Come on, I bet there'll be sweets. Better than chocolate." There was a glance at the crushed wrapper that fell to the floor. 

"Now? This late?" 

"Do you actually care?" Draco wasn't given a chance to answer as he was pulled out of Hospital Wing. 

"Wait, Harry," He turned towards the boy who froze in place.

"Yeah?" 

"I intend to fulfil that promise." 

Harry smiled. "I don't doubt you." 

Hermione gave him his final deathly hug when the five boys arrived at the Great Hall. The repeated "Why didn't you say anything?" was chastised at him. Weasley now had Draco to think of him as Ron. (He went into an underground tunnel of Salazar Slytherin's deadly mythical basilisk, he deserved at least that much.) Gryffindor was announced the House Cup winner once more, but the blonde didn't seem to care as he was pushed a plate of creamy sweets. 

 

* * *

  

Draco was returning to Ravenclaw Tower from a trip to the library (returning books about time spectrum and the basics for Arithmancy). The term was winding down, everyone had higher spirits and everyone was put at ease with the pass of final exams, now using their time to go outside, laying across the fields. 

"Draco," a stern voice called out to him. Snape was at the end of the hallway, looking like a shadow in black robes. 

"Professor." the blonde greeted as the man got closer and they began walking together. 

"Are you excited for the end of the term?" Snape asked, his usual bland tone revealing nothing about actual interest in the topic. 

"Yes, it's been a tiring year don't you think?" Draco tried for a joke, turning towards his godfather with a trying grin but was wiped away with an unimpressed stare. "Sorry." 

Snape's forehead creased. "You never tried to make jokes like this in the past. It's unlike you. It's not proper from you." 

Draco pushed down the surge of panic, his back straighten as a response. "Just--trying something different. I guess I've been hanging around Micheal's dry humour for too long. Or I'm just changing... as a person." 

Snape suddenly stopped, making the boy pause as well. 

Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy before tilting his head up to look through the dusty window showing a blue sky. "Draco, I made a promise to your mother--to _myself_ the moment I was made your godfather. I would do everything-- _everything_ \--I could keep you from harm." Snape continued despite looking like the words were getting stuck in his throat. "You are a great importance to me." 

"I know." 

The professor sighed. "I guess... this is my unique way is saying... I'm happy that you feel free to be yourself and that you have those around you that you can feel comfortable, that you have... friends that brought you back safe and give you enough thought. It's more than I ever had." Snape added, a faraway gaze overcame his face briefly until he shook himself out of it. 

"And you know it's because of Harry and Ron?" Draco questioned quietly. "Potter and Weasley? They are my friends too. They were the ones that saved me." 

Snape closed his eyes, took a deep breath and slowly said, "Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley both seem to have... acceptable behaviours that are proven useful if put in the right situation, yet their insistence of not paying attention in my class is no excuse and will be punished accordingly." 

Draco smiled. "Of course, sir." 

 

* * *

 

"Sitting with us?" Micheal raised an eyebrow, seeing Draco push himself into the compartment as well. "That's new." The four boys in the compartment shuffled around, struggling as they pushed trunks above them, all collapsing in a seat when it was finished. "What's up?" Micheal finally asked. 

Draco took a calming breath. "I need to apologise. I was a... idiot." There was a pause. His whole body seemed to reject the idea of himself as an idiot, but he continued. "When I was around you I was quiet, and when I wasn't I was being a jerk for no reason. I'm _sorry_. I guess I should've told someone and not a dark magic encrypted journal." 

The three other Ravenclaws studied him. 

"Draco, when are you going to learn, my friend?" Terry shook his head. "People have friends for a reason. To talk to, to help out with one another, to cheat on homework with--or so I've heard," he added hastily at Draco's frown. 

"Now," Draco replied. "I'm going to learn now. I'll make it up to you guys. Somehow." 

Anthony slumped in his seat, head tipped back, legs stretched out before him. "I'm not worried about it. You have the rest of the years at Hogwarts to make it up to us, but I guess I forgive you." Terry and Michael both agreed. 

Terry laughed to himself. "I still can't believe that Harry Potter got you out of the Chamber. That guy's gotta be mad."  

"I think you can, Terry," Anthony responded, an accusing tone colouring his voice. Micheal pointed a finger at Anthony as if he was on to something. "You know very well what drove Harry Potter to save Draco." 

"Oh, well within that viewpoint yeah, but what about Weasley?" Terry questioned. 

"What viewpoint?" Draco asked. "You three act have been acting like this since first year! You three hide this weird version of a secret and I finally want to know what--" 

"Draco, how do you think I'll look with long hair?" Michael asked unexpectedly.

When he received faces of confusion he defended, "I was planning on growing it out this summer!"  

"You'd look... different," Draco answered, his brain trying to imagine Micheal with long hair. 

"What's _that_ suppose to mean?" Similar conversations were made the entire journey home. 

 

* * *

   

"Draco." A voice at his door made him stop unpacking his trunk.  _Merlin, help._ Lucius looked out-of-place in his doorway. Draco doesn't remember seeing him in his room. Ever.

"Yes, Father? Need something?" 

"No, I don't. Can I come in?" Draco nodded and Lucius took the invitation. His father's boots clicked loudly along the floor. Draco climbed on his bed, unable to resume unpacking. He waited for Lucius to start talking.

"You know I love you, don't you?" It took more power than necessary to not look surprised at the comment. 

"I do. Of course, I do." 

Lucius blew out a long breath, then sat on edge of Draco's bed. "I am what others do not expect in a father, Draco. I think you've come to realise this. But, this year, I've come to some terms with myself. I've had a sort of revelation. I'll try to be better." Lucius shook his head. "I'm not saying that I'll be a completely different man. It's not that easy, but, Draco, son," he placed his hands on either side of Draco's shoulders. "I'll try to do everything in my power to never have that happen to you again." 

His stomach tightened. He didn't like the sound of that. 

"It won't Father. I've learned to be more careful. You don't need to worry."

"I need to do my job, Draco, and that's to protect you. You're my most precious creation." 

As if it was in slow-motion, Draco saw Lucius surround him in a hug. It was stiff, alien to both people. Draco never remembered his father hugging him. 

It's not the most picture perfect, but it was still his father. His father was trying.  _Trying._

Draco brought his arms around Lucius, placed his face in his chest, and closed his eyes. 

 

* * *

 

As Draco stared in the mirror, a sudden thought occurred to him, _I'm going to go through adolescence..._ _twice_. Draco ran a hand through bright blonde hair, not stopping it as it swooped back in its place, his gray eyes still looked too old for himself. Just when he stopped looking at the prospect of friends without disinterest, the sudden thought of how he still fit in his school robes when he felt like he was supposed to have grown. His voice was going to break one of these days.  _When one nightmare ends, another begins._

A loud _crack_ indicated that someone was in his room. "Dobby has brought a snack for young master Draco." Dobby showed off a silver platter. Draco found himself staring at the house-elf. 

"Dobby, you're still here?" _You're not supposed to be here._

"Of course, Dobby has learnt his lesson. Took a pan to his head for many days, he did. Dobby'll never do it again."

"Oh." _You're not supposed to be here._ "Dobby, I want your honest opinion." The house-elf stance tensed. "Are you... happy? Being here, serving us, happy with my father and mother and... me?" Draco tried to relax his tense hands. "I treated you and the others awfully. I didn't even consider about you or my attitude."  

"Dobby likes the new young master Draco. He's nice. Madam is kind. Dobby needs to repay on how Dobby has hurt young master Draco's friend, Harry Potter." 

"No, no, Dobby, please understand." Just because he's trying to fix his act doesn't mean the knowledge of him doing so goes away with it. "I was horrible wasn't I?" 

"Dobby... Dobby... Dobby would be lying if he said young master Draco was kind to Dobby before he started Hogwarts." the platter rattled heavily at his words. "But something happened to young master. Young master is no longer rude to Dobby. Dobby feels grateful for young master Draco. Swore to protect young master Draco, he has." Dobby shuffled foreword, pushed the platter on a table, bowed until his nose brushed the floor and vanished. 

A gentle tap was at the window. Squinting against the backlight of the waning summer, an outline of an owl could be seen. Draco quickly walked over. 

When the window opened, the a handsome owl flew in, landing on his bed with a letter. Hogwarts. A pleased smile came to him. Carefully, he untied the letter from the owl's foot. When the letter was relieved, the owl flew quickly out of the window. Draco shrugged, tearing at the Hogwarts seal. The usual list was required was inside alone with another slip that fell onto his bed. Hogsmeade. New excitement heightened his mood. He'll love to go back to the candy shop maybe he can show Harry--the rest of his friends. He grabbed the pieces of parchment, glanced at the mirror to see if he looked presentable (he hated how his face was still trying to cling to childhood roundness), then flew through the hallways. 

The drawing room was filled with voices. Draco stopped suddenly, thinning his lips as he peered around the corner. 

"Dear," Narcissa held out a newspaper. Lucius ripped it out her grasp and glared the front page, shock shifting the hard lines of his face as he opened the paper, the screaming photo of Sirus Black glaring out over his fist where the newspaper was held.

Sirius Black. 

"How did he _escape_? We don't know a thing about Black, Narcissa. I already know where he'll be heading to. What if Draco gets tangled in such a mess again?" 

Draco made an exaggerated noise of his footsteps. "Mother," there was a hasty crumble of paper. 

"Love," Narcissa responded. There it was again. 

They would stop talking around him. Whispering could be heard before he entered the room then it would fall completely silent when they felt being watched. They were also keeping him home. Draco asked if they could go to Diagon Alley if they go find a gift for Harry (those words weren't exactly used as he didn't want Lucius' questions). There was a hasty explanation that Lucius had to the Ministry that day and when he asked his mother she said she had a terrible headache, thus, a confused Draco did not get Harry a gift this year. It was as if they were  _coddling_ him. Even the sound of the word made Draco cringe. 

"I got my supply list today and a permission slip for you to sign," Draco said innocently, pretending not to see the newspaper in Lucius' hand. 

"Hogwarts arrived today? Wonderful, love! What's the permission slip for?" 

"For Hogsmeade. The small wizard village. Third years are allowed to travel there now. I'd love to go." Draco faked a smile. Both his mother and father looked at one another, locked in a silent conversation. His eye twitched at that. "You _will_ let me go, won't you? It's not like anything can happen while I'm getting candy and having a butterbeer." 

"Of course not, yes. That's obvious. Um, where's a quill and ink?" A  _crack_ brought a small house-elf with a dish of what was requested. Lucius jaw was tense, but he didn't say anything. 

As she was looping her name, Narcissa asked, "Will you be careful when you go? Just, stay out of trouble will you?" 

"Yes, Mother, I will be careful. Thank you." he took the permission slip with care, not letting his fingers smudge as he left the room to let his mother and father go back to their not-secret whispers. 

 

* * *

 

There wasn't one spot in Diagon Alley that didn't have some sort of discussion of Sirius Black. Lucius announced that he had Ministry business to deal with and had Draco swear that he wouldn't come near Knockturn Alley and stay in Diagon Alley as he was left alone to get his school supplies. Posters of the same screaming picture of Black lined the streets, small children that saw them were pulled away with nervous mothers. Draco was unsure with the situation of Black. He knows that he was considered innocent at some point, but he didn't understand what he meant to Harry. What he was to Harry and why Hogwarts was patrolled by Dementors. It was a topic never discussed after he joined the Death Eaters, it was a topic he didn't care about. 

"Sis, lookie, it's the Firebolt!" a young boy's voice made Draco stop in front of a window, where little children already pressing their faces in the glass. 

The Firebolt gleamed with new polish. Children were jabbing at the glass, innocently wishing of wanting the fast broom to fly. Flying, Quidditch. Something Draco actually loved. It was an amazing experience in itself. Draco would practice all throughout the summer, hoping that he'll be enough to beat Potter the next year. It was something he missed. But it wasn't something he felt allowed to. Not anymore. Draco turned away from the Firebolt. 

The second he entered Flourish and Blotts, the strained-looking manager rushed up to him. "Hogwarts? Yes, yes I already know." He stuffed bandage covered fingers in leather gloves, grabbed a splintering knobby stick and headed towards the cage of books in the window display. The book growled as the manager pushed it into his arms, snapping wildly with its sharp teeth. Draco shakily started pressing his hand against the spine. _I remember this, I remember this,_ this _I really do remember._ The book gave a lazy grunt as he continued until it became still. 

"By Merlin, I would've never thought!" He tried to a weak smile and let the calmed book be. "You know where the rest are." 

Draco nodded and went to inspect the books out on special sale. He glanced over the books quickly until one made him glance again. _Time Travelers: Theories and Experiments (Complete Essays Written) by Alica_   _Slipway._ Draco also noticed another book, _Arthimancy for the New Student._ Picking that off the table and started thumbing through. He bent his head to read, bright hair falling into his face.  

 

* * *

 

Harry had some regret telling Ron and Hermione about his crush on Draco. (Well, not Hermione, but Ron has yet not passed an opportunity to mention it in conversation.) Ron burst out in laughter when he told them on the Hogwarts Express, saying so after they questioned him why he kept looking at the door as if he was waiting for someone. Ron's given reason for laughing was that Harry's pining should've been a giveaway and that this was a goldmine for teasing (Hermione kicked him in the leg). It was nice to share his secret, feeling natural as neither Ron or Hermione batted an eye at the notion that he liked their _male_ best friend. Hermione thought of it as romantic and made Harry swear that he'd go and talk to her if he 'needed advice'. Ron pledged to "help in any way he can". Both ideas sounded terrible to him.

Harry felt at peace on that train ride. Letting himself talk about things he liked about Draco until they arrived at King's Cross. But now, this is the third time Ron has pointed into the busy crowd in Diagon Alley and questioned "Draco?" causing Harry reach up to his hair to pat it down as he looked around expectedly. 

"Not funny." He punched Ron's shoulder. 

"Be careful, Scabbers is in here. We just left to get him rat tonic. That rat tonic was expensive." A witch and a little girl walked passed them. 

"Mum, who's Sirius Black?" They could here the girl ask. 

"No one." The woman said hurriedly. She pulled the young girl away. 

Harry glanced back to the two witches. "Do you know anything about this Sirius Black?" Harry asked Ron. 

"Nothing you probably haven't heard already. Mass murderer, a supporter of You-Know-Who. Why?" 

"Because he's the reason I didn't get in trouble for using magic this summer." 

"What? Why would Fudge do that?" Ron questioned. "Dad says he never ignores the law." 

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. I think he's trying to hide the fact that he could be after me. He told me not to seek him out either." 

"What? Why would Sirius Black be after you? And why would you seek out a known murderer?" 

"Exactly! Who would know that would explain Fudge for saying that--"

"Draco?" The redhead narrowed his eyes. 

"Ron, cut it out--" Harry started, annoyed.

"No, really, look." Ron stopped Harry in front of Flourish and Blotts, pointing pass the display of _The_ _Book of Monsters_ to a boy looking at the books laid out on one of the display tables. 

Draco. 

His heart automatically starting speeding up. Draco didn't seem to notice them and picked one up, tucking another book under his arm as he skimmed through its pages. His head tilted down and his blonde hair fell forward into his eyes. 

_Don't do that thing. Don't do that thing. Don't do that thing._

Draco brought his hand up to tuck his hair back only to have it stubbornly go back in its place in his eyes. Harry inwardly groaned. When Draco tried to tuck back his hair it always left Harry's stomach uncomfortably fluttering. 

Ron knocked his elbow into his side. "Go in there."  

"What--no." Harry didn't have time to react to Ron pushing towards the entrance. " _Ron--_ this isn't--" the door was pushed wide open and the bell jingled kindly. 

 

* * *

  

A bell jingled followed by a commotion happening in the doorway. "Ron-- _don't_ \--" Draco's head turned immediately towards the familiar voice. Harry was pushing against a smiling Ron. 

"Harry?" 

Harry shoved himself off Ron, straighten his clothes. "Draco, hi," he smiled as he walked forward before he hit his hip on a display table, seeming unaware that it was in his pathway. The stack of books shuddered as a warning. "sorry, sorry," he mumbled. Draco glanced over to see Ron a dissolve into laughter outside. 

"Are you... getting books for this year?" Draco asked. The manager seemed to despair at the question. 

"Uh, no, Ron saw you through the window and I..." Harry seemed to lose his words. "Just wanted to say hi." Harry finished. "Hi." 

"Hi," Draco repeated. "Why is Ron standing outside?" Draco looked around Harry to see Ron who ducked away out of sight. 

"He's... going to look for Hermione. She's here as well so he should _be going now_." The last part was louder and Harry turned back outside, his head gesturing to say 'leave'. 

"It's nice to see you." Draco turned away from the window to go up to a bookshelf, trying to look for the new Potions book. "How was your summer?" he asked, looking at the other boy. Harry was not looking at him but glaring at Ron, waving an arm towards him as if shooing off a stray dog. "Harry?" 

Harry brought the waving arm up to the back of his head, pretending to rest it there. Harry looked out to the window once more. Ron gave Harry a thumbs up then disappeared into the moving crowd. 

"What was that about?" 

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Need help?" he gestured to the _Book of Monsters_. 

"Carry this? I need to look for the rest of my spellbooks." The blonde passed the books towards the boy. 

"How was your--" Harry's question was cut off with him staring at the quiet book. "How is it staying still?" 

Draco shrugged his shoulder. "It's like a... pet oddly. You stroke its spine and it falls to sleep. Hag--The professor must be quite a character this year." 

"I wouldn't have thought about that." 

"Me neither so don't stress yourself out." 

"Then, how did you figure it out?"  _Dammit._

"Something told me," Draco answered flatly, crouching down to the last bookshelf, skimmed the spines until he found _Numerology and Grammatica_ , standing up and placing it in Harry's arms. "Uh, where do you see the Charms section?" Draco didn't wait for his response and travelled deeper into the bookshop. 

"Um, Quidditch!" Harry enthused when he caught up. "You've seen the Firebolt, right?" 

Draco nodded, tension leaking out of his shoulders. "Amazing isn't it? Its speed alone puts every other broom unable to compare." Draco could think beyond the cloud of hate he had for Harry before, he had to admit, when Harry got one he could barely see him move across the field. "I mean, the precision on reaction time and braking. It could get France out of the rut of losing streak and back into the winning bracket like they were eight years ago. Though, the Japanese National team is going to hard to beat as they added a new Keeper that's really good apparently." Harry looked at him strangely. Draco bowed his head, abashed. His hair fell again and he hastily pushed it back, a smile splitting on his face on Harry's suddenly stricken face. "France is my favorite team, I've been following them since I was eight. I like to keep track of what's happening." 

"I never realised how much you liked Quidditch." Harry blinked. 

"It's my favourite thing. I used to play a lot before--I started school." Draco finished shortly, his mood dimming. "I'd like to think I was good." Draco distractedly put the Charms spellbook in Harry's arms. 

"Why don't you play for Ravenclaw? See if you're good enough to get on the team." 

"And have the chance to go against you? I've never seen you lose a match before. You're a fantastic player, Harry." 

Harry blushed at the compliment. "Really? Because the way I look at a Quidditch game, I seem to go to Hospital Wing after, even during." Harry shifted the books from one arm to another. 

"Doesn't stop you." Draco smiled up at Harry. "I'll take it that you wouldn't mind me taking up Quidditch and beating you then?" 

"You wish you can beat me." Harry said, taken aback at Draco's comment. 

Draco suddenly got close to Harry, inches away from his face with the use of his toes. Harry's eyes went wide, his throat seeming to work to get back into function. "I will take that challenge then." Draco turned away, looking for his last book. "I didn't think I'll see you until school started again." 

Harry cleared his throat, shaking his head. "Neither did I, but I had nowhere to go after I... ran away." 

"You _ran away_?" _He did that_? "What happened?" 

"I got into a... argument with my family of muggles. Specifically, my uncle's sister who both hates me and magic." Harry said ruefully. 

"And how did this argument end?" 

"With... her... blowing up into a balloon-like state and seeing a new view of the neighbourhood." Harry said slowly. 

Draco thought about it, a horrible muggle aunt who became a human ball and lift up into the sky. A smile broke when he huffed a laugh. Then a chuckle spilt out until it was laughter.

"That's--amazing--" the blonde managed between breaths. "I can see it now," 

Harry also started laughing. "My uncle tried to help her, but he almost got sent up too! I've never been happier to see that hag get what she deserved." Harry ruefully announced. 

"They must be terrible people." Draco suddenly thought that he didn't know much about Harry's life outside of Hogwarts. 

"They are," Harry put on a somber face, "but I get amazing stories of when I use magic on them." Draco laughed, Harry grinned.

Draco's chest was overwhelmed with warmth. His fingers tingled, his smile grew wider. One of his hands tried to cover up his _loud_ laughter in the otherwise quiet bookstore. As if a moment of clarity struck him, he looked at the other boy next to him. Harry's messy dark hair, round glasses, loose muggle clothes, his infectious grin, books stacked in his arms. Draco's heart thumped off-beat. He looked... he looked.... 

"Draco?" 

"Huh?" The haze appearing in his eyes was blinked away. 

"You got quiet." 

"Really? Strange." Draco's face burned and he couldn't fully understand why. 

"Did we get everything?" Harry lifted the books in question. 

"What?" The blonde forgot that they were here for books.  _How?_ "Oh, yeah, I think we did."  

Draco paid for his books and the two stepped outside. Sunlight peeked through the clouds and it played off Harry's hair. Draco's stomach fluttered. _What is going on?_  

"Draco," he felt himself jump as the newcomer placing a hand on his shoulder. 

"Father," Draco said, noticing Harry tensing behind him. 

Lucius moved to Harry, noticing the stack of books. "Mr. Potter," Draco's father greeted formally. 

"Mr. Malfoy." 

"Yes, hello. Son, it's time to go."  _But I don't want to._ Lucius walked away, not bothering to see if his son was following him. 

"Yes, Father. Of course." Draco turned to Harry who was still staring at Lucius. "Harry, my books." 

"Right! I'll--see you--soon." Harry said, carefully placing Draco's books in his arms. 

"Very soon." Draco nodded his head before turning with Lucius down the street, opposite from where Harry was going. "Father?" 

"Yes, Draco?" 

"Mind getting me that broom now?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowza im rusty did this chapter seem ooc bc it sure did to me also if there's mistakes that's just me 
> 
> unrelated note i have successfully taught my niece to say 'Harry Potter' ~~also maybe the word 'no' which bugs her parents to no end but shhh~~ time for my favourite year to commence!! 
> 
> comments kept this fic alive so all is appreciated!!


	20. Enouement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y’all are precious when you leave your precious comments... all of you’s are so PRECIOUS.
> 
> Over the... long break a SWEET BEING CALLED [DUOSWORDS](https://duoswords.tumblr.com/) drew perfect art for this fic and im????still????in shock????how was this story blessed with such talent?????? 
> 
> they made a GIF of [the squad on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters](https://duoswords.tumblr.com/post/164853315267/some-fanart-for-the-awesome-fanfic-history-repeats), [Draco in Chapter 1](https://duoswords.tumblr.com/post/165030839557/springing-up-from-the-floor-he-rushed-to-the), [Draco and Harry meeting in the robe shop](https://duoswords.tumblr.com/post/165091802982/hello-his-voice-was-soft-and-weak-dammit), and [Draco and Harry and Ron on the Hogwarts Express](https://duoswords.tumblr.com/post/165164486737/fuck-all-of-you-still-he-went-along-and-decided)! Please give it lots of love!!!! 
> 
> this chapter was originally longer but since i don't have the second half completely finished and it's been too long since i updated that i split it in half :)

Narcissa squeezed her son’s shoulder, keeping him close to her as they pushed through the crowds of people at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. “Draco, you’ll be careful this year won’t you?” she asked seriously, watching parents reluctantly let their children onto the scarlet red train. 

Draco felt himself tip his chin upward to show his dignity. “Yes, Mother, I’ll be careful. You can trust me.” He liked that his parents have taken a more... ‘emotional investment’ in him after the Chamber of Secrets Incident, but the coddling had to stop. 

  
“It’s not that I don't trust you love; it’s just I don’t trust _others_.” She sharply tightened her hand so Draco didn’t collide with a rushing trolley. She loosened her grip. “You must be smart. Just be sure to choose the right people you can count on and not just anyone--”

“Arthur, hurry up! The train’s about to leave!” A woman’s loud voice rang across the platform. “Leave that boy alone already!” A fluttering body with dark red hair bumped into them. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry--oh, Draco, dear!” Mrs. Weasley shook her head as she steadied herself. “I haven’t seen you in forever!” the woman said, eyes warm and bright. “How have you been doing?"

“Hello... Mrs. Weasley.” He hasn’t spoken to her since their first meeting at Diagon Alley last summer. He could still feel his waxy smile pinching his cheeks as Mr. Weasley eyed him wearily until a breathless hug from Mrs. Weasley that claimed him to be “a good boy and a best friend of Ronald”.

Her forehead creased. “What are you doing still standing here? The train’s about to leave! What will your _parents_ think about you missing the train?” she pointed a finger at him. ”I’ll tell you what they’ll think, they’d--” Mrs. Weasley’s scolding stopped, noticing a manicured hand was still on Draco’s shoulder. Her eyes followed over to a prim Mrs. Malfoy. “Oh, hello.”

Draco’s mother arched a perfect eyebrow. The red-haired woman flattened her flyaway curls under her hat, clearing her throat.

The Hogwarts Express shrilled in warning.

Narcissa pressed his trunk into his hand, paying no mind to Mrs Weasley. “Hurry on, Draco. Remember: Be careful." She said once more, pressing her ritual kiss on top of his head.

Bidding her a quick goodbye, Draco shoved his way through tall shoulders to reach the train. "Can--Could you keep an eye on Ronald, please? And Harry too?" Mrs. Weasley called after him, wagging a finger. "They don’t need to draw any more attention to themselves this year!”

Draco pushed himself through the parents and managed to step up onto a train cart, the floor moving under him. He turned back to see his mother and Mrs. Weasley waving at him. Everything about the two women was different. From Narcissa’s carefully curled hair to Mrs. Weasley’s shoes that had one of the faux buckle straps hanging loosely off her heel. Narcissa glanced over at Mrs Weasley in scrutiny.

Narcissa was sticking out a jewelled hand to a surprised Molly Weasley when the platform went out of view. Draco lugged his trunk into the hallway, not ready to start the search for a place to sit. 

A hand clapped his shoulder made Draco's skin jump off, heart pounding. He turned jerkily around to see Anthony. “Don’t _do_ that.” Draco hissed.

Anthony held up his hands in complacency. "So sorry about that but I have been looking for you. Glad I caught you before Potter did.” Anthony wrapped a casual arm around Draco’s shoulder (with more ease as he seemed to grow a few inches over the summer). ”Merlin knows that you don’t sit with us often.” Anthony pulled at Draco to start walking. “I have to tell you all about my Bar Mitzvah I had this summer—you know, the one I mentioned in my letter—and warn you that Michael’s growing his hair out. It isn’t as bad as we say it is, but we can’t have him getting an inflated head so…” Draco nodded, understanding.

“It’s great to see you,” Anthony said after a beat, shaking Draco’s shoulders.

“It’s… nice to see you, too.”

The two stopped suddenly in front of a compartment, the door slamming open with a yank. “Look who I found, lads!” Anthony declared.

  
Michael didn’t acknowledge them as he was still glaring at Terry. "Enough about my hair!” He self-consciously running his fingers through his long bangs. “It's not that bad…”

"It's a little bad," Terry noted, cramped in the corner, his eyes closed as if to catch more sleep.

"Whatever, piss off." Michael flipped his bangs. “The girls will love it. Just wait.”

Terry snorted. “Yeah, I can see the girls running now.” He sat up and had his hand wave over an imaginary scene, his other hand gripping the back of Michael’s shoulders. “All over Hogwarts... They’ll be falling amongst each other…” Terry turned to face the other boy. “To get away from you.”

“Lay _off_ , mate.” Michael knocked Terry’s arm off of him.

“Hello?” Anthony repeated. “Hi, our elusive friend, Draco Malfoy, makes an appearance in our compartment.”

“Right, right. Alright.” Michael sent one last glare to Terry as Anthony and Draco pushed themselves in the compartment. “Did you do anything exciting this summer? I’m just _dying_ to know.” Michael simpered after Draco dropped into his seat.

Draco plucked a loose string off his robe sleeve. “No, I didn’t do anything exciting, but I did just get a new broom... I was thinking to join the Quidditch team this year. Sort of made a deal with Harry that I’d beat him during the holiday.” Draco smiled at the recent memory, remembering how Harry fumbled with his words that he highly doubted that Draco could be beat him but would like to see him try.

“ _You’re_ going to join the Quidditch team?” Michael pointed a finger at him. “And beat Harry Potter while doing it?”

Draco tilted his head as if in thought. “Hm, sounds about right.”

“Are you serious?” Michael laughed. “Draco, be reasonable! He must be one of the best flyers Hogwarts had in years. He joined the Gryffindor team in his first year!” Michael pushed his bangs off of his forehead. "There are reasons for that!"

Draco rolled his eyes, waving an unbothered hand. “Don’t put him on a pedestal. Always bothers me when people do that.” Draco glanced out the window to see the train finally picked up its travelling speed. “I’m actually pretty good at Quidditch.” A brief silence pulled Draco away from the window to see the dubious looks from the other boys. “What? I am!” 

“I’d think Draco as a Quidditch rival for Potter is the least of our problems," Terry interjected, suddenly serious. "Have you forgotten that there’s ah, oh what was it, again? Oh, yeah, a _convicted_ _murderer_ running around with no leads of his capture?” 

“Sirius Black?” Michael nodded. “Right … Keep forgetting about him.”

“How? He’s all over the papers! You know, mass murderer, known criminal in both the wizarding _and_ muggle world. Escaped Azkaban--the highest security wizard prison--everyone’s trying to find him!”

"It's not like he's going to be anywhere near us," Anthony replied.

"There's no news that he's going to Hogwarts," Michael added. “If you ask me, I think the talk about Sirius Black is overrated.” Michael crossed his legs. 

“The safety of our lives isn’t overrated to me.” Terry turned to the last blond boy, hoping for support. “Draco, back me up here. You know how dangerous this sort of thing is. Talk some sense into them.”

Draco ... didn’t really have a suitable opinion that would satisfy anyone. He remembered the story of Black’s arrest (who didn’t?) and his apparent loyalty to the Dark Lord, but when he joined the Death Eaters, they mentioned Black as a traitor (especially his Aunt Bellatrix) and never spoke his name without their faces twisting in disdain. He knew what the stories told him about Black’s connection to Harry and his parents (Draco felt an unwarranted wave of pity), but there had to be more to the story that he never knew. Black was later proved innocent after his death but Draco never found out the cause of it and how much had to do with Harry Potter.

“I… don’t know what I think of him.”

Terry clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Look, we don't know where he's going to be! That lunatic is probably heading to Hogwarts as we speak!”

"Don't be dramatic, Terry! You're making this into a big deal for no reason and nothing to back it up." Anthony argued.

"Sorry, but after last year, I'm just a little more concerned." The boys grew quiet, shooting obvious looks at Draco. The blond’s jaw tensed and pretended he didn't hear continuing to look outside. 

"Terry, mate, Hogwarts is the last place Black would want to go to,” Anthony said, forcing himself to laugh weakly. “We have Dumbledore. He's probably the most powerful wizard out there. Almost everyone in the world knows that. It’d be stupid to come to Hogwarts.”

Terry shook his head. "With a lunatic like Black, I don't think it'll matter if we had bloody Merlin at Hogwarts he's still might on his way here.” 

“Terry,” Michael placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “We’ll be fine. Even muggles are looking for Black. We’re going to be looking out for each other, right? We’ll be okay.” 

Terry deflated. ”Yeah, sure. Seeing as no one wants to talk about it, I’ll drop it for now.” 

“Okay then,” Anthony clapped his hands. ”How about we not talk about rampant murders… And move onto a more casual topic?”

They all settled as London started to flatten into rolling green hills and Anthony was telling stories about his Bar Mitzvah. “So my family enchanted a chair to do the lifting right, so it was my uncle’s turn to be lifted and do you know what he does? This man? This man has a _family_ with _kids_. This man goes and grabs the—“

A throat cleared at the doorway. Harry was standing there, patting at his messy hair. (Draco always wondered why Harry did that, he meant it when he said his hair was fine.)

“Potter!” Anthony said unsurprisingly. “Had an odd feeling you’d come by.” 

“Hi, Goldstein…” Harry muttered, nodding his head to the two other boys. 

“What brings you here, Potter?” Michael asked, leaning back and crossing his arms in an attempt to look cool. He flipped his bangs in a dramatic flair.

“I’ve been looking for Draco. I need to talk to him about something.” Anthony raised an eyebrow. Harry cleared his throat. “Uh, in private.” Anthony’s eyes widened a fraction, glancing over at Terry and Michael who mirrored Anthony’s reaction. The three had a silent conversation with their eyes that included eyebrow twitches and vague head movements.

“Of course.” Draco stood up, not acknowledging the three boys. “I’ll be back. Don’t wait up for me.” The blond followed a pinked Harry into the hallway. The Ravenclaw boys didn’t even wait for the door to be closed before whispering to one another. (Even after two years of them doing this, he’s still nowhere close to knowing what they talked about.)

”Sorry about them they always get odd when they’re around you,” Draco said offhandedly. “I have no idea where it comes from.”

“It’s fine, really,” Harry cleared his throat. “But I really do need to tell you something.”

“Lead the way then.” Harry nodded dumbly and took the lead. 

Draco glanced at each compartment door as they walked by. He saw a group young first years nervously chatting with their heads ducked forward and averting his gaze when a shameless seventh year couple didn’t even close the blinds to have their passionate make out. The noticeable age difference behind each of the door was vividly reflective… Draco could say internally he was, in fact, seventeen, but his father gifted him a Nimbus Two-Thousand and One (the Firebolt was still not for consumer sale) as a late birthday gift for turning **thirteen** _._ He hated, _hated_ , how it made him feel so isolated from the others. 

“Lookit. If it isn’t Harry Potter gracing us with his presence. And the traitor Malfoy, too.” Draco felt an uncomfortable roll of his stomach.

Fletcher Nil was glaring at them, blocking their path. Crabbe and Goyle were standing dutifully behind him to give off the menacing look that Nil couldn’t achieve himself. Draco steadily kept his gaze away from both of them. _Awkward encounters with those you swore off ties with? Absolutely brilliant._

“Not now, Nil,” Harry said tiredly.

“What? Am I not good enough for the famous Harry Potter’s time, but the Slytherin traitor is?” Fletcher seethed, his weasel-like features twisting. “I bet his family were so disappointed that he failed their Slytherin legacy. It’s amazing that his father can even let him be in the same room as him.” Draco felt his anger swell to meet the baiting insult. (As did anything that concerned legacy.) _You don’t care about Father’s legacy,_  Draco tried to reason with himself.  _You don’t **care**. He only wants a reaction from you. You yourself basically perfected that trick in your so-called glory days as Slytherin’s Egotist._ Crabbe and Goyle laughed at the insult. 

Fletcher pulled his face into winning glee. He chest puffed out in the way where he knew he had power and could flaunt it, with dozens following after him. As if anything could be given to him on the shiniest silver plate. Just like how Draco did it. It was a sad sight to see from the outside. 

Fletcher's unpracticed smirk turned confused when he glanced at the blond. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Nil demanded. Draco let his face slip back to passive.

“Bugger off, Nil. I’m not asking again.” Harry said forcefully and pushed passed the surprised Slytherin boy, Draco following closely behind him.

“Hey, I’m not done yet.” Fletcher grabbed at the closest thing to him--Draco’s arm.

“Get him off of me.” Draco hissed, his calm act dissipated and was ready to respond with his own ( _far_ _superior_ ) remarks himself, until Crabbe and Goyle, on instinct, followed Draco’s order and pulled Nil out of reach.

Fletcher looked at the large hands have a firm grip on his upper arms, surprise written all over his face. Crabbe and Goyle as looked amazed that they were still compelled to follow Draco, both of the Slytherin goons blinking owlishly at their old leader. Draco felt a lump in his throat.

Nil glared at Draco, his dark eyes held anger, but beyond that, there was nothing that could be perceived. Grey eyes seemed to be looking through a blank, black space that one could trick themselves to believe it had depth. It was like looking through nothing as if Nil wasn’t supposed to be there at all.

There was a small part of Draco that had sympathy for him.

Nil must’ve seen Draco’s shift of emotion because he narrowed his eyes angrily, his nostrils flaring. “Freak.” Fletcher spat, pushing off Crabbe and Goyle’s hands and stomping through them, going further and further down the train opposite of where Harry and Draco were heading. The blond turned to see Harry’s brow knit in question but Draco shook his head.

“Keep walking.” Draco jostled Harry as he moved past him. He didn’t break his quickened stride until busy hair and bright red head through a far off window. 

Harry and Draco's footsteps slowed when they noticed the compartment door was cracked open and Ron and Hermione we’re caught in a conversation.

“Ron, it’s Harry’s life you’re talking about. You can’t just meddle around it and try to play Cupid.” Hermione admonished.

“But, it’s just so painful to watch him stumble as if he's never spoken to a--” Harry forcefully cleared his throat, passing Draco to get into the train compartment. 

“Draco! We weren’t talking about anything. And absolutely nothing about you.” Ron said oddly and both Harry and Hermiome shot him a glare. “How was your summer?” 

“I’ve been fine. I...” Draco’s eyes drifted over to a blanket-covered adult snoring in the corner. "That’s..."  _A werewolf,_ Draco's memories interjected. 

“Professor Lupin,” Ron answered matter-of-factly. “We’re reckoning--Actually, Hermione’s reckoning--that he’s going to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” _Yeah, and he’s a werewolf._ “He seems to be sleeping pretty deeply so don’t worry about it.”

A wicker basket cage suddenly hissed and spat making Draco’s shoulders jump for the second time that day. A brief squish of burnt orange fur could be seen sticking through the cage bars.

“And what the hell is that?” Draco said, frowning.

“This handsome boy here is Crookshanks," Hermione said eagerly. Got him over when I got this year’s school supplies. Poor thing needed a home, no one would take him, it was just so sad.” Hermione crooned, her voice high and airy as if to soothe the creature. “Don’t you think he’s the most gorgeous cat you’ve ever seen, Draco?”

Draco made an unsure face, crouching down to finally look into the basket's bars. Dirty yellow eyes seemed to stare him down as the cat’s fur ringed around his upset face.

"He's... charming."

“I’ll say… that there is a monster. Been out for Scabbers since day one. The poor lad,” Ron said lamentably, tugging his rat closer to his chest. Draco eyed Ron's pet with its dropping whiskers and its fat, grey body and seeming to be dead save for the slight movement to show Scabbers was still breathing. Draco wrinkled his nose. _The poorest lad indeed_ , Draco thought. 

  
“Moving on,” Hermione pressed, ignoring Ron. “What is it you needed to tell us, Harry?” she tucked Crookshanks’ basket securely beside her leg.

Harry recounted everything odd and cryptic warning given him by Mr. Weasley, what he overheard the Weasleys talking about at the Leaky Cauldron, and to not doing anything rash regarding Sirius Black.

  
“Dad said that? Why?” Ron shifted Scabbers in his hands. “And if he thinks that Black’s after you... why does he think that you’d go after him?”

Harry just shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know why he’d say that. He’s never done anything to me before. I've never even heard of Sirius Black until this summer.”

Draco pinned his gaze to the floorboard, the edges of his vision going fuzzy.

_“Why do we mention Sirius Black to Potter again?” Goyle asked dumbly._

_Draco clicked his tongue, reaching to his temple as if there was a headache there. “Must I explain everything you?” The blank look on both Crabbe and Goyle’s round face said 'probably.' “It’s because Black is the one that killed Potter’s parents. Sold their location out to the Dark Lord, I overheard it from Father myself.” Draco placed a wicked grin and placed his hands behind his head, kicking his feet onto the Slytherin Common Room table. “Potter doesn’t even seem to know it, the fool.” Draco clicked his tongue. “Can’t even use my best material then,” Draco said, fakely dismayed._

_“You’ll think of something better.” Crabbe dutifully said._

_“Of course I will Crabbe, now shut up.”_

_“Oh, right, sorry Draco, Draco--”_

_“--Draco_ , Draco?” Hermione's voice cleared his head.

“What?” The compartment’s occupants were staring and Draco kept his head down. His least favourite habit of spacing out seem to be coming back with more vengeance. “I, I don’t get why you’d be after Black either. It doesn’t make sense.”A loud whirring noise came above their heads, startingly everyone expect for Professor Lupin who was still sleeping soundly. “What’s that noise?” Draco asked.

The noise turned out to be from a small Sneakoscope spinning madly in Harry’s trunk. A Sneakoscope. Draco ignored that fact the Sneakoscope might’ve been activated by him by his lying.

“Must be broken, that cheap thing. We’ll get it looked at Zonko’s.” Ron stuffed the object back into Harry's trunk. 

“Zonko’s?” Hermione asked. 

“Yeah, in Hogsmeade, the wizard village. Third years are allowed to go now! They have all sorts of places there! Honeydukes, The Three Broomsticks, The Shrieking Shack! We’ll have the time of our lives!” Ron said excitingly.

“I think you mean when _you_ have the time of your life,” Harry said disappointedly. “I’m not going. The Dursleys didn’t sign my permission form.”

“What? That’s not fair!” Ron exclaimed. “Those Dursleys are right wicked! They probably never even gave you a chance.” Hermione’s jaw was clenched in response. Draco frowned. Again with the muggle relatives he barely knew anything about.

“Well, I did try to be reasonable by playing nice with my aunt, but we know how that turned out.” Draco unintentionally smiled. Harry snuck a glance at Draco’s vague smile. “I’m on pretty bad terms with them after that whole thing.”  _Oh_. Draco’s smile fell, the lightheartedness of the story stripped off. _Oh_. What kind of muggles were the Dursleys anyway? 

“We can forge it--I mean, like Fred and George--” 

“Ron, that’s dishonest! Besides, Harry shouldn’t be going out if it’s true that Sirius Black is after him."

“Fine, but we're still going to find a way around this," Ron promised, digging out a homemade sandwich out of his pocket and unwrapping it.

The conversation trailed in and out of different topics and when the witch with the trolley cart came and went, Draco remembered that he wasn't supposed to be sitting there the entire ride. 

“I should probably get back by now. They must’ve finished plotting whatever it was.” Draco pushed out his seat, starting for the door.

“You could stay,” Harry said quickly.

Draco’s steps faltered, turning back to the boy. “Why?”

“Well, you could,” Harry seemed to lose his words. “I mean, you’re already here. And...”

Draco stumbled as the train groaned to a complete stop, metal shrieking against metal. 

“Are we there already?” Ron asked.

“We can’t be. It's too early to be there yet.” Hermione said seriously. “It seems liken we got stuck. I didn’t even know that the Hogwarts Express could do that.” 

Even Draco who was specialized in the bizarre occurrences that happened around Harry Potter didn’t understand what was happening. 

“That’s never a good sign.” Ron breathed out, looking out the window to see up to the engine of the train. The lights flickered ominously before cutting off. Eerie noises sounded over their heads. The temperature dropped abnormally, quicken breathes showing into the chilling air.

Draco stepped back from the door as frost branched in angry spikes over the window.

“That’s never a good sign either,” Ron repeated, looking at the frosted windows in horror. 

Draco dropped himself back into his seat next to Harry, a lump forming in his throat, and his stomach filling with dread and realization.

_It can't be. Not now. I’m not supposed to be here at the moment. Not now._

Draco felt the Dementor before he actually saw it. 

The Dementor was hovering outside the compartment. Draco thought this is what Death must look like. Its black, ragged cloak floating around it as it sucked everything warm and light from its surroundings, leaving an aching grayness of emptiness. 

Crookshanks started hissing wildly. The Dementor moved its hood as if it was looking out into each compartment. A spindly long-fingered hand emerged from the cloak. The Dementor opened their own compartment door.

Draco tried to move back but collided with Harry whose eyes were frozen on the creature.

And then the Dementor took a sweeping breath.

Draco was suddenly overwhelmed with bone-chilling cold. A fleeting thought was that he’d never be warm again. His chest suddenly felt as if someone was pressing against it, making it difficult to breathe. His increasing heartbeat thudded awfully against his compressed rib cage. Screams pelted at his ears: the Dark Lord’s anguished prisoners, Aunt Bellatrix’s shrill laughter she did when he was tormenting, the Dark Lord when Harry Potter was getting in the way of his plans. He felt himself shaking. His heartbeat felt like it was exploding. Uneven shapes blurred his vision until Tom Riddle whispered closely in his ear. Memories of pale, icy hands grabbing at his shoulders and holding his wrist in place made Draco flinch horribly. _Not him again. Anything but him again._ The life seemed to be pulled out of him, leaving the cold hands and screeching laughter. 

Someone was talking but it sounded like he was underwater, diving deeper and deeper as all he could see was murky blackness. Blinding white light erupted from the compartment, causing the Dementor to howl painfully before taking off and light immediately taking its place. 

Draco took a shuddering gasp, tears stung his eyes. Strangled breaths managed past his throat. Draco wildly looked around the compartment. Professor Lupin, wide awake, still pointing his wand. Ron's eyes were bugged wide as Hermione was taking deep breaths. Harry was no longer beside the blond. 

“Harry!” Hermione suddenly shouted and went down to the floor, inspecting an unconscious Harry but Draco was still trying to collect himself. His chest was minutely coming loose, waves of chills still shuddering through his body. 

“Uh, Draco? Mate,” Ron went over to Draco bypassing Harry for the moment. He wasn’t sure whether or not he could wrap his arms around the shaking boy. “Are you alright? Uhm, take a good breath, right? Do you want me to count or something?” 

“I’m—fine.” he felt something cold roll down his cheek. Dammit, he’s crying. In front of other people. He was supposed to be _better_ than this. Draco took a final deep breath, wiping away at his wet face. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” The boy stood up, a wave lightheadedness causing him to stumble. “I need to get back to the others.” Draco turned towards to the door, trying to push away from the compartment. He just needed to get away.  “I’ll feel better there.” 

“Wait,” a tired voice called out. Professor Lupin had a large bar of chocolate opened in his hand, breaking a sizable piece off. “Eat this.” he held it out to the blond, his tired eyes shining with understanding. “You’ll feel better.”

Draco sniffed wetly as he grabbed the sweet with slow reacting hands. “Thank you, Professor.”

Harry was coming to as the door clanked shut.

  
He skidded past the poking heads of students nosily wondering what just happened. The back of Draco’s throat burned as he tried to keep tears at bay. He busied his fingers and tore into the chocolate piece and was relieved when warmth appeared in his chest at the firs taste. He quickly found the compartment and hurriedly stepped inside. 

“Whoa, mate, are you okay? You look awful.” Michael said. Draco didn’t doubt it. He could only imagine what he looked like. Puffy red eyes, shaky shoulders, eating chocolate for comfort like a scared child. He **_hated_** that he was being seen like this.

"It's nothing. Don't ask." Draco said flatly and he sat far from the rest of the boys, still taking deep breaths. 

The three boys were quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. 

“Do you want... comfort?” Anthony asked, his arms open in question. 

Draco switched his gaze to Anthony's arms and to his concerned face. Draco sniffed and swallowed the lump in his throat. He didn’t have to think too long; he nodded.

He slid closer and awkwardly placed himself at Anthony's side and the boy’s arm hesitantly laid on his shoulders. 

It wasn’t exactly the satisfying comfort of his mother. Anthony didn't comb his hair with his fingers like his mother or give him sweet words into his ear, but it did make him feel secure. Draco’s stiffness slowly became lax. Anthony patted his arm once, twice.

None of the other boys said anything for the short time left on the Hogwarts Express.

That night, Draco was treated with a free pass of not participating in the games of Wizard Chess that his dorm mates played late into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the second half is not too far off!! 
> 
> once more, give [Duoswords](https://duoswords.tumblr.com/) big loves! 
> 
> Comments keep this fic alive and bring smiles to my face!! 
> 
> ~~~~  
> [also, i've been posting sporadic updates about progress on HRI on my tumblr so yeah check in every now and then](http://gimnald.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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